


A Town Called Marvel Falls

by WillowAndMark



Series: Marvel Falls Series [1]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Attempted Murder, Begging, Big Cock, Blood, Bondage, Character Death, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Developing Friendships, Drama, Drama & Romance, Friendship, Gags, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Healing, Hentai, M/M, Marvel Universe, Masturbation, Murder, Murder Mystery, My porn developed plot again, Oral, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Milking, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Repressed Memories, Rimming, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shower Sex, Size Kink, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tendril, Tentacle, Tentacles, Tongue Fucking, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 122,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowAndMark/pseuds/WillowAndMark
Summary: This is a high school alternate universe take on the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It takes place in the little town of Marvel falls (MARVEL falls, get it?) where all the characters you know and love are remixed as students, teachers, and neighbors just trying to live their lives as technological, cosmic, and emotional turmoil threaten to tear it apart. Our main protagonist is Eddie Brock, infected by Venom, caring, loyal, brave, and looking for love. He'll go through hardships, heartbreaks, and tons of melodrama all for a taste of both excitement as well as normalcy.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Peter Quill, Eddie Brock/Star Lord, Eddie Brock/Venom - Relationship
Series: Marvel Falls Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075970
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange Experiments are going on in a secret location (similar to in the Venom movie) that sets the scene for the story to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is going to be a bit of a long one. There's a lot in store / being planned out. This will be split into multiple parts (actual novels actually do this too, so we're not crazy for doing it) for convenience and so it doesn't feel like one big sting of consciousness. The chapters for each part will be labeled so you know which section you're reading. The first section that you're starting with is "[Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]"
> 
> Thanks for reading, enjoy the fic! : )

WILLOW, AN: Hey everyone! This story is going to be a joint effort between myself, Willow Lutz, and my soon-to-be stepbrother Mark Miller! We’re both fans of the Marvel universe and we decided to make a High School AU fic as a project. We’re currently writing this during the covid19 epidemic so it's not as though we have better things to do. We’re both writing chapters and my brother Lucas is doing all the editing! (thanks bro!). So yeah, we’re working super hard on this fic, please, leave some nice comments and be on your toes for updates! : )

Dora Skirth sits at her desk pouring over compiled data when she is contacted by the project founder.  
“Ms. Skirth, you are needed in the testing facilities,” her boss says, face-timing her computer.  
Dora’s eyes widen. “You - you’re joking, right? We are nowhere ready for -”  
“I am growing impatient,” Her boss interrupts, bluntly. “You know what the goal of all this is. Why should we continue messing with small insignificant creatures when we already know the reactions to expect? If it needs something complex, we’ll give it something complex.”  
“Sir, we don’t know for sure -”  
“Dora, I don’t hire you for your inherent humanity. I hire you to run the equipment and do what I order. Now, get down here.”  
“But -”  
“That was not a request.”  
He ends the call.  
Dora enters the main labs. Looking around at her colleagues is like looking into their souls. Some are like her and ashamed of what they’re doing, though, they’ll never stand up to it. Others have a look of ashamed curiosity, hating what it's coming to but still curious to see what happens next. Others are so lost in their own minds and their work that they Probably forget that the figure standing by in a hospital gown is even a thinking and feeling person.  
They are waiting for their employer who, unbenounced to them, is running late due to an unexpected yet necessary bathroom break.  
Dora Scoots over to the patient they’ll be “working with.”  
“Hi,” she whispers quietly.  
“Oh, hi,” He says.  
He’s kind of skinny. His hair is stringy and he has dark ringed eyes. He has a little cough to him and a wheeze in his breath like he's ill.  
“Where are you from?” Dora asks.  
She has no idea who this guy is or where he came from. She and her colleagues were only made aware of this man’s existence just a few minutes ago.  
The man shrugs. “I was just living on the streets. I was offered an escape; a shit ton of money! Something about testing new technology or something like that.”  
“How many of you are there?” Dora asks.  
“Maybe a hundred. They're gonna find more. They’re hooking us up with a new place to live and work if we just help out with something first. They didn't really say what, but I'm willing to try anything at this point!”  
Dora smiles, weakly.  
She jumps as her employer walks in, briskly.  
“I’ll take it from here, Ms. Skirth,” he says, his gravelly voice so filled with contempt and iciness it sends a shiver up her spine.  
Dora quickly steps out of his way.  
“Are you ready?” Dora’s employer asks.  
The man nods. “Yeah. I am wondering what all of this is about though.”  
“Oh, I think it’ll become quite apparent.”  
He has the man step into a room made of glass in front of Dora and the others; the testing room. The door slides closed as soon as the man is in. There is the sound of the airlock going off as it tightens. The man looks a little confused but shrugs it off.  
Dora’s employer looks to her and she pulls out a tape recorder. She presses record, gives the data and project name and recaps what they’ve been up to thus far.  
“After some bullshit, we are starting our first human test. From our weeks of testing on smaller animals we have found that the virus in question is uninterested in lower lifeforms. Though it needs a living host to survive, it is very picky. The higher the life form the higher the interest. Still, nothing we have tested is interesting enough for the subject to try and merge with. Our last test left off at testing monkeys, creatures below humans. It was The closest but the subject still refused to touch it and huddled in the corner until near death before we returned it to the cage. Human testing is required at this point.” Dora swallows, takes a deep breath and says, “test beginning now.”  
Dora presses a button. From the floor of the glass testing room rises a large tank filled with red liquid. It squirms and writhes, wailing like a banshee all the while. It resembles thick blood crossed with spider webs.  
The man stares on in horror and begins screaming.  
The creature extends out in a complex mass of tendrils like billions of little legs that pull it along. It pulsates and gurgles. As soon as it senses the man it goes wild and tries to escape the vial that holds it.  
The man shrieks and bashes the room’s door. Dora freezes and breaks into a cold sweat when her eyes lock with his.  
“Ms. Skirth,” Her employer says, wanting her to release the creature. Seeing her frozen he lets out a low growl of anger, rips the remote from her hand, and presses the button himself.  
The vial opens and the creature rushes out.  
Tendrils shoot out and extend toward the man. He shrieks as the tendrils grip him and screams even louder when the creature yanks itself from the tube and collides with the man’s chest with a gooey splat. The creature begins to seep into his skin. It goes right through his clothing.  
At first there is nothing. He just stands and looks confused.  
Dora’s assistant has taken over the tape recorder and dictated into it, waiting for any observable effect.  
They get that effect.  
The man starts convulsing and shrieking and writhing. Everyone gasps loudly as the man’s spine is literally bent backwards at a 90 degree angle. Tendrils shoot from his body in every direction. He gives one last yell before tendrils wrap around his head and twist it backwards. His body falls to the ground limp.  
The creature exits his body and crawls across the floor. It launches itself at the glass and shrieks as it tries to get at the people beyond.  
Dora’s employer stands with his arms crossed, seemingly unphased.  
“Huh. Any ideas what happened there or why?”


	2. Entering Marvel Falls [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie Brock is moving to the town of Marvel Falls. He meets his estranged father, meets his friends, meets his enemies, and mourns the loss of his mother who passed away.

I sit in the airport waiting area with my headphones on… waiting. There’s hustle and bustle around me, a flurry of bright colors, but I tune it all out. I’m not in the mood for color, or movement, or much of anything, really. My back aches from this uncomfortable chair. I keep taking my jacket on and off, my body unable to decide whether it’s hot or cold. I’m bored, nervous, frustrated and sad all mixed up together into a horrible emotional concoction.  
I’m waiting for my Dad to pick me up. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. Last time we were together was at my tenth birthday party. I’m almost eighteen now; it’s not as though he even knows me anymore. What would he even say to me? But, after the long flight and the even longer wait here, a conversation, no matter how awkward, would be appreciated.  
I’ve been texting my friends. Back home across the country they’re getting up for school while here night has just fallen. They’ve been texting me right up until being forced to put their phones away for their morning classes. They’ve been sending me huge blocks of texts, mostly composed of crying face emoji. They’re just as upset as I am. I miss them already.  
Memories of Mom wash over me as they always do every few minutes. I wish my brain could just repress that shit instead of bringing it up. Every time I think about her, it’s like acid on my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to cry.  
I almost scream when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up and see Dad standing over me. He’s in his mid thirties, and still looks quite handsome. He has a broad frame and looks like he works out. He has a handsome face, electric blue eyes and a mustache.  
“Oh! I’m sorry, Eddie, I wasn’t trying to scare you!”  
“No, you’re fine. I’m just… lost in thought.”  
“I imagine.”  
I stand and we hug, awkwardly.  
“You’ve gotten so tall,” Dad says, lamely.  
“Eight years will do that.”  
Even more awkward silence.  
“I guess I’d better get you home,” Dad says, finally. “You must be exhausted.”  
“Yeah, Very.”  
Dad helps me with some of the luggage and leads me through the airport and out to the car. We have to run across the parking lot as a chilly drizzle falls from the sky. I look back at the airport, my only escape route out of this hell hole after I get my life together, as the car starts up and pulls off. The airport vanishes into a sea of trees shortly after.  
The road feels like a tunnel carved into the earth. Solid forest on either side of us, like no man has ever set foot beyond the asphalt.  
Dad says it’s only a few miles to his house. Well, I guess it’s my house now as well, technically.  
I’m so tired, I haven’t slept in a long time, the plane was uncomfortable to me. I’m not much in the mood for conversation at the moment anyway. Not that Dad doesn’t try to start one.  
“I think you’ll like Marvel Falls, Eddie. It’s a good community, good people.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“I bought you a new truck, I called ahead and it’s been delivered, keys under the porch welcome mat. Your first vehicle all to yourself, don’t need to rely on your old man driving you around everywhere.”  
“Cool, thanks.”  
“The local school is good, I think you’ll do well.  
“Sure.”  
“What’s your favorite class?”  
“English and Literary studies.”  
After a while of questions followed by me mumbling short finalizing answers, all while never making eye contact and just staring out the side window, he finally stops.  
I tilt my head and look out my window. In the moonlight the forest is kind of eerie. There’s fog out, swirling like spirits adding to the creepiness.  
After a long time, we pull off the highway and onto a freshly paved road. A few minutes after that we approach a large arching sign that reads “Welcome to Marvel Falls!”  
“We’re here,” Dad says.  
“No duh,” I mumble.  
the town is much larger than I thought it would be. it’s an odd sight from up here, the forest is so thick that the town looks like a bowl carved into it. it appears to be mostly houses, but a bunch of stores seem to be clumped in the middle. Beyond the town, I see a couple huge buildings above the trees, factories by the look of them.  
We descend down the steep hill and enter the town. We soon reach Dad’s house, a large Victorian looking building located right on the edge of the bowl the town makes. Right next to the creepy forest. Great. yard lights cut through the night. The house is two stories and huge. grey paint that might’ve been white at some point peels here and there. The once ornate walkway is cracked and has splotches of bright green mold growing here and there. The flowerbeds look like they’d be overgrown during the summer, though all the plants are dormant at this time of year.  
He leads me through a mudroom and into a rustic looking living room with mismatched and broken-in furniture. He has a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall with a gaming console hooked up to it.  
“Guess I should show you around really quick,” he says. “this is the living room, obviously.”  
He leads me through all the rooms of the house. Everything is huge here, bigger than I thought Dad would be able to afford.  
He leads me upstairs, and we enter into a spacious loft. I can see that this isn’t a guest room; one wall is piled high with old junk. The bed is actually a couch with a pullout with a wobbly looking writing desk next to it. I sit in the office chair next to it and find the wheels are rusted still.  
“I’m sorry about all this,” Dad says motioning around. “I wasn’t really all that prepared, this was kind of sprung on me.”  
“You and me both,” I mutter.  
“I hope that this room is ok for you.”  
“Oh, it’s great,” I say, dishonestly. “It’s just fine. I’m pretty tired though, so…”  
“Of course, it is pretty late,” Dad says, checking his watch. “Before I go, I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking the next couple days off to get you settled in. I didn’t want to just plop you down here and expect you to just figure everything else out on your own.”  
I scream internally - I’m seventeen going on eighteen in a few months, I think I can handle myself - but force a smile. “Thanks.”  
There’s another awkward hug before Dad leaves me, closing the door behind him.  
I flop down on the bed and my body sinks way too far into it.  
The overhead light is an ugly yellow color that makes the room feel like a faded photograph. The wallpaper is an ugly greyish blue with prints of flowers and birds so miniscule it makes your eyes hurt a little to look at it. The air is dusty, musty, and stale.  
Under normal circumstances I’d like to think I’m a good-natured person and able to deal with things alright. At this current moment however, I’m not.  
I cry myself to sleep and wake up the next morning to grey light filtering through the dirty window. The day outside is drizzly. The sky is greyish and unpleasant. This place needs a sun lamp, it’s too dreary.  
I worm my way out of the too soft bed and stretch. I hear rattling below me from the kitchen.  
I see a full body floor mirror wedged in a corner. I pull it out and immediately sneeze at the copious amounts of dust that starts swirling. I pull off my current t-shirt and wipe dust from the mirror while making a mental note to ask Dad if he has any Swiffer dusters. I stand in front of the mirror a minute, just staring at my reflection.  
I’m such an insignificant looking person. I’ve never been athletic, I’m lean but thin and scrawny, just the barest of flesh covering my bones. I’m seventeen and already have a dusting of hair across my chest arms and calves. As soon as I hit eleven my body decided to jump into puberty full force. I have a beard, though it's thin and patchy looking. All my hair and my eyes are the same shade of brown with a dusty blonde shine. My eyes have a sleep deprived look, sunken with a hint of darkness that looks even more pronounced against my pale skin. I look so nothing and so average.  
I throw on a new set of clothes, a t-shirt with a graffiti splatter skull on it, a pair of jeans that have developed holes in the knees, a fleece lined Adidas hoodie and a pair of vans that have a skull pattern to them. I’ve always had a “poser goth” thing going with the skull theming.  
I trudge downstairs as Dad hums to himself while standing over the stove, cooking breakfast; eggs and bacon. My stomach rumbles.  
“Morning, Eddie. You sleep well?”  
I shrug. “Fine, I guess.”  
“Well, have a seat at the table; breakfast is ready. I was going to get you in a few minutes anyway.”  
“I didn’t know you could cook,” I say as Dad piles food onto a plate and serves it to me. “Mom - I struggle a moment - said you were useless in the kitchen.”  
“Yeah, well, I did pick up a few things from her before she left. I’m doing my best.”  
From there we both eat in silence before Dad offers me a ride to school for my first day. I appreciate the gesture, but I wish he didn’t have to take me in the company car. He’s the town’s sheriff and goes to work every morning in a squad car. Even without the lights or anything on it’s still very noticable. At the school side drop off people give me weird looks as Dad drops me off with a goodbye and a wave before driving off for a cup of coffee at the local McDonalds.  
I turn towards the school with people milling inside. I huff and puff with nervousness, my breath making short lasting clouds around my mouth. The school is modern and very clean. Dad says it’s new, and he’s not lying. The overhead lights are stark and leech the color from my surroundings. It’s kind of intimidating.  
I go to the office and the receptionist, a woman who’s so perky she twitches like a chipmunk, gives me my schedule and gym clothes for later today. I sigh. I always have and still do hate gym. I follow her directions to the Junior wing and walk past my locker twice, like a complete idiot.  
When I try getting my locker open it refuses to budge.  
“No, no, come on, not on my first day!” I mutter. I fumble with it one handed, holding everything else with my other arm. My fingers slip from the lock and I stumble backwards, spilling my stuff everywhere. I curse and wail on the locker door, spitting profanities in frustration.  
“You need some help?” A boy behind me says. I turn to see a tall, handsome boy with quaffed brown hair dressed in nerdy clothing. He’s very attractive.  
I must be staring at him with way too much intensity because he shifts uncomfortably. “Um, you need some help?” He asks again.  
“Uh, yeah I do,” I say, regaining my ability of speech.  
The boy dials the code for me, pulls the lever up and rams his knee into the lower portion of the door. It makes a loud metallic pop and opens.  
“They gave you the bad locker,” The boy says. “It’s broken and weird to open.”  
“Thanks.”  
The boy sticks his hand out. “I’m Peter, Peter Parker.  
“Eddie Brock,” I say.  
Peter helps me collect my things from the floor. “So, You’re the guy from the other side of the country right, out in the desert?”  
“Yeah, from the big city. It’s weird being in a little town like this.”  
Peter smiles, dazzling me with perfect teeth. “Well, see you later, Eddie. Hope to chat when the bell isn’t going to ring in fifteen seconds exactly.”  
I have to squint to see the clock down the hall - no clue how Peter was able to read it so easy - and realize I’m going to be tardy on my first day. Great.  
Luckily, my first hour science teacher lets me off the hook. Just when I think she might be cool she then insists on having me stand in front of the whole class like a pet monkey and introduce myself, which was super awkward. Between that and her droning and uninteresting voice, twenty minutes in and I hate her.  
It’s a test day for everyone else. I get to sit back and doodle in my notebook and write little poems for each drawing. The images are very sketchy and thick from my dull ticonderoga pencil. They’re of people with scary faces and their heads cut open with nightmares escaping out. I always draw stuff like this, I guess it reflects my inner self.  
The last fifteen minutes are filled with idle chatter as the class waits for the few remaining people to finish their tests. People glance - or sometimes just flat out stare - at me. They’re sizing me up, curiously. I don’t appreciate it; it's really annoying.  
Suddenly a boy sitting behind me taps me on the shoulder. I turn and look at him. He’s a lanky kid with quaffed black hair and a face that’s handsome with a hint of boyish charm. He’s wearing black jeans, shoes with huge tongues on them and an oversized Rick and Morty t-shirt.  
“So, Eddie, right?” the boy says.  
“Yeah. can I help you?”  
The boy nods to my notebook. “I like your stuff. Very cool, very spooky.”  
“Thanks,” I say, coldly, before slapping my notebook shut. I hate it when people crane to look at my artwork.  
“So, where did you move from?” The boy asks.  
Oh great, here we go with these questions. I've been dreading this!  
“Other side of the country, Phoenix Arizona.”  
The boy nods thoughtfully. “Cool. Always wanted to road trip cross country, you know, for spring break or something. My friend and his dad would totally take me, but my parents won’t let me. It sucks.”  
I nod and nod with false interest.  
“So, what do your parents do, they take in a lot of cash, or are you like, white trash or something?”  
I stare at the boy a moment. He’s still smiling; I can see in his eyes he’ loves being irritating.  
“I’m middle class, I guess. Dad’s in law enforcement and Mom is - was - a prison guard.”  
“Prison guard? Man, your Mom must be awesome!”  
That particular question hit a nerve and is rapidly upsetting me.  
“Mom sure is awesome!” I say through gritted teeth.  
“So, what sports teams are you into, if any?”  
Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, SHUT THE FUCK UP!  
As though reading my mind another voice speaks up. “Oh my God, Scott, would you go easy on the poor thing?” A girl across from Scott says, “He’s a newbie and doesn’t have the immunity to you that the rest of us were forced to develop.”  
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Everybody had to. I’m a ‘fatal disease,’ as you put it.”  
“Am I wrong?” The girl says.  
“I’d like to think I’m a minor sickness at least, fifty percent chance of survival.”  
“You give yourself too much credit.”  
The girl turns to me. she’s awfully pretty. She seems to be tall and lean. She has a pretty face with freckles and a little gap in her teeth. Her blonde hair is shoulder length and curly. Her eyes are a bright shade of green. She’s dressed in a mixture of punk and designer clothes. Black and pink seem to be her colors.  
The girl flips her blonde hair and introduces herself. “I’m Gwen Stacey.” she hikes a thumb towards Scott. “Scott Lang here’s a friend of mine.”  
“No autographs, please, though I know it’s tempting,” Scott says holding his hands up sarcastically.  
Gwen sighs. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s the kind of person you only want small doses of.”  
“You can’t deny that I’m highly addictive though,” Scott says.  
The bell rings and I say a quick goodbye to Scott and Gwen.  
I soon learn that they were the only interesting part of my morning. Everything else is as dull as I expected it would be. The usual stupid questions and the feeling of alienation. I do get some satisfaction when people ask who my dad is and I answer with “the sheriff.” It makes people uncomfortable. Good, it means they won’t mess with me, hopefully.  
I walk into fourth hour history class to find a girl near the back waving at me and motioning for me to sit by her. I’m confused but go for it and take the desk next to her.  
“You’re Eddie Brock, right?” She asks.  
I nod.  
“I’ve been dying to meet you! My name is Mary Jane.”  
Judging by Mary Jane’s expensive clothes, perfectly curled red hair, and model-like face, she's the cheerleader type.  
“I’m head cheerleader!” she says.  
Called it.  
“Really, you are?” I say.  
“Uh huh. I assume we’ll be seeing each other on the field soon.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You were on the football team at your old school, weren’t you?”  
“Uh, no. I’m not the biggest sport person.”  
“Right, you don’t look very athletic, you might want to hit the gym more, so what did you do instead?”  
“Um… I was head of the student newspaper and the yearbook -”  
“Oh my god! I’m head of the yearbook here! Maybe you can get in, I could totally get you a spot. You know, depending.”  
“Depending on what -”  
A boy walks up to me and raps a knuckle on the desk with one hand, clutching his books with the other. “Um, this is where I usually sit -”  
“Well you’ve been dislocated!” Mary Jane snaps, her head turning sharply to face him, her barbie doll smile replaced with a deathly glare.  
“But -”  
“Piss. off!” Mary Jane snarls through gritted teeth.  
The boy leaves at a steady stride. Why the hell is he that scared of a bitchy cheerleader?  
Mary Jane looks back to me and smiles sweetly. “Sorry, what were you saying?”  
“You said I could get a position with the school paper depending on… something.”  
“Depending on how well I decide I like you. So far, you seem real sweet. And cute!”  
I blink. Average build, brown hair, brown eyes, and patchy facial hair usually don’t get reactions of “cute” from people in my experience.  
“Hey, why don't you sit next to us at lunch,” Mary Jane says. “We can show you the ropes. Don’t want you mixing in with the riff raff, am I right?”  
She chuckles and I do as well, feeling awkward.  
By the end of fourth hour I’m starving. I’m not used to second lunch. I lose track of Emma in the bustle of the hallways and end up standing in the lunch line by myself with a bunch of freshmen. I remember being a freshman myself. It feels so long ago even though several years is next to nothing timewise.  
The cafeteria is impressive. The whole room is made almost entirely of glass. Two walls are windows that show off the dense green forests and mountain ranges beyond and the other two separate the cafeteria from the halls.  
I stand behind three lean kids, two boys and one girl. They all have dyed hair, reminding me of parrots. They chatter about arbitrary things, but their voices draw me in for some reason. The pitches and timber of their voices are mesmerising somehow. One of them starts humming a jingle and somebody has to jab me in the back before I realize I’m holding up the line.  
I get my food and before I can make any move Mary Jane appears next to me. “Hot lunch, huh, good choice for you. Too fatty for my taste. And too shitty to my taste as well.” she hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, follow me, the others are dying to meet you!”  
As we cross the lunchroom I quickly get a sense of the different cliques based on who’s sitting where. Rowdy jocks at one table, nerdy kids at another, Instagram model looking girls at another, the dark and broody bad boy slash goth kids at another.  
I see that near the center sit three familiar faces. Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy and Scott Lang all sit with one another and chatter and laugh excitedly. Gwen sees me and waves. My hands are occupied so I just smile and nod in her direction.  
Mary Jane sits me down next to her and introduces me to the group. All of them are sporty popular people, muscle bound jocks and makeup caked girls. I immediately feel out of place. I mostly just eat and let them ramble. Their conversations are such useless fluff I imaging cotton balls popping from their mouths with every word.  
I finish my food long before any of the rest of them and excuse myself to return my tray. As I set my tray on the cart next to the trash cans I look over and see Peter, Gewn and Scott chatting and laughing up a storm. I glance towards Mary Jane’s table for a second. I really don’t want to go back there.  
The three friends all look up as I approach their table.  
“Hey, he lives,” Scott says. “We thought you’d been indoctrinated into the cult of Mary Jane.”  
I chuckle. “Nope, I had to get out of there, they’re so boring.”  
“They’re way worse than boring. But yeath, they’re that too I guess.”  
“Well,” Gwen says, “go ahead and take a seat if you want. You know, unless you’re attached to your social cred.”  
“I haven’t cared about that shit since middle school,” I say as I sit.  
“That’s the spirit!” Gwen says. “Just gotta live the way you want, you know?”  
“And don’t worry about your social cred either,” Peter chims in. “While nobody wants to admit it, we’re actually the secret group everybody wants to be in. We’re kind of like the anti-school social class.”  
“You make it sound like a conspiracy,” I say.  
Scott shrugs. It could be. You never know. We only take on select members. Think of this lunch hour as a briefing, a test to see if you’re material for our little group.”  
“You’re pulling this out of your ass, aren’t you?” I ask.  
“Of course I am! We’re all just the odds and ends of the school. Peter’s the car obsessed grease monkey, I’m the horrible nerd slash hipster slash whatever the fuck, and… I’m not quite sure what Gwen is.”  
“I’m the rebel, screw society and their expectations for me.”  
“You certainly rock purple while doing it apparently,” I note.  
“Hey, if you're going to do what you love, surround yourself with a color you love, right?”  
We keep talking and it quickly devolves into stupidity only we’d really get. Sure, Mary Jane and her crew were talking about stupid stuff too, but this is my kind of stupid!  
So all in all, lunch passes quite nicely. Fifth hour, gym class, less so.  
I’ve never been a fan of gym clothes. Everything is so short and revealing. It lets everyone see my hairy arms and legs and a bit of chest hair (from the deep cut of the tank top) with clearity. I had to request a private changing room because there’s no fucking way I’m stripping nude right next to a slew of other people.  
Mary Jane is with me in this class too. She prances up to me with a bounce in her step, showing off how cheerleader-y she is.  
“Hey, Eddie, what happened? You just vanished during lunch, what’s up with that, huh?”  
“Oh, sorry, I just… I just wanted to sit somewhere different. I didn’t mean to, like, ditch you or anything.”  
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s totally cool!”  
There’s a little glimmer in Mary Jane’s eye that tips me off that, no, she is in fact not ok. In fact, she looks slighted almost. What the hell did I do to piss her off this badly?  
My discomfort ends when the teacher, a hulking mass of man meat arrives and blows his whistle to call everyone over and start class. We start off with warm up exercises and I end up clearly showing Mary Jane why I’m not a sports guy. Even while just doing simple stuff I end up tripping over myself like a complete clod. Mary Jane tries and fails to hide her discontent.  
Finally, our game, indoor soccer, is announced. I make a beeline to my team’s net. If I have to participate, I might as well be goalie. The less I’m required to move is the best. You might as well get help from the mascot rather than me. I shy away from balls, mainly because I’m not terribly interested in getting hit in the face or the nuts for the sake of a stupid game. I’ve got awful aim. I forget the rules. I love watching sports, just not playing them. Most of the people here are pretty sporty anyway so hopefully I won’t even have to do all that much.  
As I go for the net I am shocked to find someone already there. How is that even possible, the teacher blew his whistle a grand total of two seconds ago and the goal is a couple yards away. I blink several times but the boy remains. I’m not sure what I expected, a mirage maybe?  
The boy is very athletic looking. He is fit and cut, arm muscles casually bulging as he leans against the goal post. He has scruffy hair that licks his ears with bangs that sweep over his face and curl slightly towards the ends. Though obviously seventeen or eighteen he has silvery grey hair that shines in the yellowy light of the gym. His face is very angular in shape. His chiseled jawline is adorned with stubble several days old.  
It takes me a moment to realize he’s been staring at me staring at him. His nose wrinkles with annoyance.  
I turn away from him to break the contact… and am hit in the face with a soccer ball. It was kicked hard, hard enough to make me fall backwards and hit my head on the polished concrete, giving my skull a double whammy. Colors and light go wonky and the whole room tilts violently.  
My head tilts sideways and I see the silver haired boy crouched down next to me.  
I sit up and immediately wish I didn’t. The pain suddenly kicks in making me moan loudly. A scarlet waterfall flows from my nose, miraculously not broken. Not knowing what else to do, I squeeze my nostrils shut, though a little still manages to leak out and dribble through my fingers. Tears run down my face.  
“That was a bad idea,” The boy says.  
“What was, sitting up or looking at you in the first place?” I say through wracking sobs.  
“Both. Come on, I’ll take you to the nurse, her room is in the school office.” he offers me a hand and hauls me up. He has to grip me by the shoulders to keep me from falling again.  
“Thanks for the help…”  
“Quick Silver,” the boy says.  
“Really?” I ask. “Odd name.”  
“My parents were on the nose, what can I say?”  
“On the nose with what -?”  
“So, You’ve had a hell of a first day, huh?”  
“Yeah, I guess. You already know about me, huh?”  
“My sister filled me in on you.”  
“Who’s your sister?”  
“Her name’s Mary Jane.”  
I am shocked and can only muster an acknowledging “huh.”  
“She rambled on a lot about you.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, she did. She likes you, I don’t know why. You sat with her at lunch. Don’t do that again. Trust me, if I could get out of that crowd I would.”  
I mull over his out of nowhere advice.  
I’m awfully light headed by the time we get to the office. The office ladies both look horrified when we walk in. I do look awfully strange as I had to use the bottom of my shirt to stop the bleeding, exposing my midriff. The whole front of me is red. I’m going to have to do some serious laundry when I get home.  
The nurse takes me back to her office and gets me all set up so I won’t bleed to death through my nose. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on a far wall. I look like some stoner with my eyes swollen, my nose plugged with cotton, and my mouth open to breath.  
The nurse also calls Dad to have him pick me up, as I’m really not fit for the rest of the day. He must’ve been really panicked because he arrives in record time and accidentally left the lights to his squad car on. Half the student body is ducking for cover, fearing the fuzz.  
Rick comes in and sees me.  
“Oh my god, Eddie, are you alright?” He hugs me which I don’t mind, but is kind of awkward.  
The group of people assembled at the hullabaloo are looking at me really weird.  
“Thanks for being concerned, but it would be a GREAT help if you could, you know, get me out of here,” I say.  
Dad drives us home in the squad car.  
“So, how was your first day?” He asks. “You know, besides the obvious.”  
I shrug. “It was ok. It was the first day, and all that goes with it.” my voice sounds awful with my nose plugged like this.  
“Did someone do this on purpose?” Dad asks. “I can bust anyone who needs busting.”  
“Relax,” I say, waving him off.  
As soon as we get home Dad has me take several Excedrin and go straight to bed which is fine, I have a major migraine. I crawl into bed and snuggle into a comfortable position, which isn’t hard since the bed has the density of a marshmallow.  
The lurid wallpaper does it’s best to keep me awake, but eventually sleep takes me.  
...  
I remember coming down the stairs of my old house, looking out the kitchen window, and seeing my mother hanging by her neck from a tree in the backyard.  
I remember just standing there. I’d just gotten a cup of coffee and barely noticed when I let it drop to the floor, the boiling liquid seeping through my socks and burning my feet.  
I remember walking out there in a daze, my brain unable - unwilling - to process what I was seeing.  
I remember mumbling “mom” and “why” over and over again like a lost child as I stood beneath her.  
Her body had long since gone cold, her skin glistened with chilly morning dew, her clothes slightly damp. She was in her nightgown so it must’ve been a spur of the moment. Her feet were bare and beginning to discolor slightly, turning blue and purple. Her face was horrible to look at. Her eyes were still open and bugging out of their sockets and bloodshot, her mouth was agape, tongue sticking out a little, her lips a bruised blue color.  
I remember my windpipe, choked shut from the cascade of emotion, suddenly giving way, letting an ear splitting shriek pierce the early morning air long and hard enough to bring neighbors coming at a dead run.  
…..  
I bolt upright in bed, screaming. I immediately clutch my head that feels like a balloon about to burst.  
Dad went back to work, so the house is silent. It’s dark like the outside, which is fine because even the little milky light that makes it in makes my head hurt like a knife is being jabbed through it.  
I collapse back into the mattress and for the second time since I arrived I cry myself back to sleep. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
hey evryone! Thanks for reading our story it means alotg to us willow did most of the writing on this one - ive got some coool stuff in th works for the stiff happening later!!!!! Go aheed and show her some love in the coments and stuff ahe would super appreciate it ant stuff!!!!!! She made quicksilvet so sexy ans sxott so funny and stuff and i totally love star lors he is my favrite dude from guardiens of the galexy! L


	3. The Mysterious Boy [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has his second day of school and meets a salacious new boy, Peter Quill, AKA Star Lord.

My second day was by far much better than the first, and it had fewer projectiles.  
I came to school with my nose and my eyes a deep shade of purple. My nose has been bleeding on and off, though it's slowly healing. Thankfully, nobody seemed to care too much.  
Scott and Gwen are pleasant chatterboxes during first period. The whole time Scott insists on calling me “Raccoon.”  
In fourth period Mary Jane swoons all over me like a protective mother and promises to destroy the social life of whoever kicked that ball. I insist that that’s highly unnecessary but Mary jane has a look of sadistic joy in her eyes, like a shark who sells blood in the water.  
As I throw my stuff in my locker before lunch I hear someone say, “yeah, that’s him,” as they get closer. I turn to see three people approaching.  
The one leading is Quick Silver, dressed in name brand sports clothes. He has sneakers unlike any I've seen before, grey with green soles that glow like radioactive waste with every step. They look mechanical in a way.  
To Quick Silver’s right is a girl with blonde wavy hair. She is dressed in punk clothes, ripped jeans, a leather jacket, a Metallica t-shirt and biker boots. Her hair has a couple of extensions, a black stripe and a bright purple one. Her lips are covered in red lipstick. She has a sneer of disapproval on her face.  
To Quick Silver’s left is a mousy girl with bushy hair the color of brownish dishwater. Her eyes are dark and sunken in as though she hasn’t slept in weeks. Her skin is very pale, making the splash of freckles on her cheeks stand out all the more. She wears huge baggy sweat clothes and ratty looking tennis shoes years out of style. She says nothing, and just hides her hands in her sleeves and looks away uncomfortably.  
“Hi, Eddie,” Quick Silver says. “My friends here wanted to meet you.” He motions to the punk girl. “This is Misty Que.” he motions to the other girl. “This is Erin. but we call her Pyro.”  
Misty smirks like a naughty porn star while Erin just waves shyly, her oversized sleeves flopping all over the place.  
“So what do you guys want?” I ask.  
“Just wanted to talk; get a look at the fresh meat,” Misty says. “And quite a bit of meat we have,” she says with fake flirtiness.  
Quick Silver chuckles. He has a cocky swagger to him that I don’t like.  
“You don’t mind, do you?” Misty says.  
“As a matter of fact, I think I do, I need to be going -”  
Misty graby my arm with an iron grip and actually hauls me backwards with strength I didn’t think she had. “Something the matter, huh? Do we intimidate you?”  
“Misty, do you have a striptease to do for someone?” Peter Parker says suddenly, appearing out of nowhere and walks up briskly.  
Erin shies away, hiding herself behind Quick Silver.  
Misty growls. “Stay away, fucker!”  
Quick Silver looks unphased. “Can we help you, Parker?”  
“It’s his second day here for God’s sake!” Peter snaps.  
“Oooh, what a white knight,” Misty says. “You think anyone being talked to in any way is harassment, you’re such a softie.”  
“I think my fists would disagree,” Peter says, raising them. “You wanna keep talking?”  
Quick Silver scoffs. “I don’t think your rep could take another fight, and I don’t think your father’s could either. Maybe if you get in trouble he can come down here and beat up the principle on your behalf, then you can be a big criminal family.”  
I rip my arm out of Misty’s hand and stomp down on Quick Silver’s foot as hard as possible. He yells in unexpected pain. I step away. “Thanks, Peter, but I can handle myself,” I say.  
Peter looks frustrated that I stole his thunder.  
“Oh, yeah, you’re tough,” Misty says. “I wouldn’t be too fearful of you. You’d probably break a nail or something.”  
“We have a motto,” Quick Silver says. “Use negotiation first, if that doesn’t work, use brute force until your enemies are either dead or they surrender.”  
“Do you really mean the dead part?” Erin squeeks softly, the first words she’s said yet.  
“Depends on what Peter and Eddie Boy decide to do.”  
“Come on,” I say to Peter and pull him down the hall with me to the lunch room.  
Behind us I hear Quick Silver and Misty muttering to one another.  
“What did you read?” Quick Silver asks.  
“Nothing, he’s just a normal human,” Misty whispers.  
“Huh,” I mutter.  
“I’m surprised at how well you handled that,” Peter says.  
We get our lunch and sit with Scott and Gwen who congratulate me on surviving Quick Silver and his goons.  
“What’s his deal?” I ask.  
“ He’s just a dick,” Gwen says. “He’ll have a great career as a drug dealer as a career, he’s already doing quite well for himself.”  
“Who are the other two? His friends?”  
Peter huffs. “Yeah, right. Guys like Quick Silver don't have friends, he has associates. They work for him, and he works for Mary Jane.”  
“Wait, what?” I say, surprised.  
“Oh, yeah,” Peter says. “She’s a megalomaniac who wants to rule the school all for herself.”  
“That explains a lot. How do you know all that?”  
“I dated Mary Jane when I was younger and dumber. I was one of her high ranking goons. Then I grew a fucking brain and dumped her ass.” he says it with finality and says nothing more about it.Scott leans over to me and whispers, “She cheated on him with the school president, Harry Osborn. He and Peter are major frenemies now.”  
I’m dreading gym class and I pray I don’t get hit with anything again.  
The teacher asks if I want to sit out.  
“Actually, yes, thanks.”  
“Thanks nothing. Life is pain. Get out there.”  
I blink a second before gritting my teeth and walk out there in frustration.  
I stick through the workouts and hope my nose doesn’t start bleeding again. The teacher sends us off to our teams to finnish up soccer from yesterday. I hope to land goalie today.  
As soon as we’re dismissed I make a beeline for the net, but Quick Silver has it already. He’s a speedy one, he is. Still, I go over to ask him if he’d let me have it.  
“Well, hello again,” Quick Silver says.  
“I don’t suppose I could take the goal today, could I?”  
“Planning on saving the ball with your face like you did yesterday? That was a brave thing you did I might add, the angle of the shot, if you hadn’t been in the way, it probably would have gotten in.”  
“Ha, ha, ha, hilarious,” I said grumble.  
“Sorry about that,” Quick Silver says with zero sincerity, “That was meant to be a light-hearted joke, I apologize if you took offence.”  
“Can I be the fucking goalie today, or nor?” I say, bluntly.  
Quick Silver backs off and motions with his hands. “Take it, please. I wouldn’t want you to hurt me or anything.” He smirks before jogging off. He moves with too speedy and too-fluid movements. It's uncanny somehow, as though he was exerting absolutely no energy. Quick Silver leaves to enter the game… walks past the game… and goes to lean against a far wall and brood. That works too I guess as long as he’s away from me.  
...

Dad only drove me to school this morning as a one time thing to get a feeling for the new town and since it was my first day. From now on I’ll have to ride the bus. Joy of joys.  
I haven’t had to deal with the bus since I was an annoying little kid that irritated all the teenagers around me. And now I'm the teenager who’ll be irritated by little kids.  
I try to remain positive as I hop on my bus. I walk past all of the horrible elementary school kids and past the angsty awkward middle schoolers to the the very back, the sanctuary of us high schoolers.  
I scream internally when I find all the seats taken. There are only two seats with an opening.  
I make eye contact with one of the two people sitting alone. She gives me a look that says, “get anywhere near me an I will fucking end you.” she puts her feet up on the seat and goes back to looking at her phone.  
I guess i’ll take my chances with the guy sitting in the very, very back. The guy has his face lowered to his phone and is texting, his fingers flying over the screen. Damn, I’m an old granny when I text compared to that!  
I tap him on the shoulder and he plucks his earbuds out. “Yeah, what?” He demands.  
“Uh, there are no more seats left. Is it ok if i sit here?”  
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” The guy moves his bag.  
“Fierce competition here, huh?”  
“Can’t afford to be late. Gotta be a sprinter.”  
“Eh… running isn’t really my thing,” I say.  
“Well then, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of one another.”  
I chuckle.  
The guy looks bored by his own joke and remains stoic.  
I try to make a good impression. “My name’s Eddie,” I say, extending a hand.  
The guy looks at it a moment before deciding I’m worthy of a shake. He shakes my hand and immediately uses some lavender scented hand sanitizer. In the moist air it’s suffocating. “I’m Peter,” He says. “Peter Quill. But don’t ever call me that, everybody calls me Star Lord, ok?”  
“Why Star Lord?” I ask.  
“Because it’s my D&D character name, and because everyone mixes me up with that fuck head Peter Parker.”  
“Oh, ok.”  
Star Lord immediately looks back down at his phone and puts his bud back in.  
The bus sits for a good five minutes too long before it finally starts to roll. It feels like we’ve been sitting here for fucking hours.  
I slip my wireless headphones on and let my bizzare multiple genre frankenstein of a playlist block out the rumbling of the bus.  
I glance over at Star Lord from time to time, I'm not sure why. He never looks up from his phone and never notices.  
He has a far different style than everyone else here. This is mostly an upper middle class town. Everyone here appears to spend a lot of time on their image, on top of the latest trends and enjoys tearing apart anyone who doesn’t. I think he may be intentionally slapping the others in the face, rebelling against the social norms.  
His dress is random, yet very intriguing. He wears a colorful tye-dye t-shirt that has a sparkly unicorn printed on the front, bleach stained black jeans with holes in both knees, and shoes that have the biggest tongues on them I’ve ever seen in my life. His arms are a brilliant and intricate pattern of tattoos. He has a beanie on his head that only partially covers his sandy blonde hair that doesn’t match the caramel colored scruff on his face. His bangs are done in a handful of tiny braids that must’ve been meticulous and a real pain to do. He has thick black emo gages in both ears. What really draws my attention is Star Lord’s face. I have never seen a guy wear makeup before. Eye shadow, eyeliner and a subtle shade of pink lipstick that shouldn't look good on him, but does. He is like every clothing trend thrown into one.  
The bus passes through downtown Marvel Falls. I look out the window and see a pizza parlor.  
“Wow, Dad didn’t mention we had one of those,” I mutter out loud.  
“You don’t know about Pop’s Pizza? Really?” I was unaware Star Lord was listening. He has an incredulous look on his face.  
“Hey, I just moved here like a day ago. Mary Jane said something about a ‘welcome to town party’ or something this weekend -”  
“WHAT?” Star Lord bursts, making me jump. “You’re friends with Mary fucking Jane?”  
“I wouldn’t say ‘friends’ per say.”  
“Good, don’t be.”  
“Both Peter Parker and Quick Silver told me not to bother with her.”  
“Yeah, they’re right. She’s fucking awful.”  
“Bad Blood?”  
“She wins the gold medal for worst bitchy girlfriend in the history of bitchy girlfriends. Enough said.”  
His voice has the viciousness of a wolf ripping a caribou to bits, the caribou being Mary jane. I guess these two were a thing once upon a time. Obviously she went from beauty to the beast during their run.  
“Sorry it fell through,” I say.  
“Oh, please, don’t be.” He laughs. “I’m certainly not.”  
I don’t really know what else to say so I just keep quiet.  
Star Lord texts a little longer on his phone but then plucks one earbud out and keeps it out. I guess he wants to talk now.  
“So, you like it here?” He asks.  
“I wanna lean towards no.”  
Star Lord smirks. “Same here, man. This whole town friggin’ sucks; everyone in it too.”  
“Oh, I don't think so. I’ve met some nice people here. But, you know, I don't want to jinx it or anything.”  
“Lucky you,” Star Lord says. “Everyone in this whole town hates me.”  
“Why?”  
He looks at me with extreme suspicion. “Why the hell do you care?”  
I shrug innocently.  
He sighs dramatically like he’s annoyed, but answers me anyway. “It’s because they’re all sheeple. I’m not. They all go out of their way to restrict themselves and conform to every stupid social rule that comes along without questioning them or why they are there in the first place and how they assault you and drag you down if you don’t join them in their quest for self destruction. No, I stand correct, they’re not sheeple, they’re lemmings, lemmings ready to leap to their deaths over pathetic things. I can guarantee you, I’m no lemming!”  
“Actually, the whole lemming thing is a lie perpetuated by a Disney documentary. But, yeah, people kinda suck.”  
“Oh, yeah, and they also hate that I'm white trash,” Star Lord adds.  
“You’re white trash?” I say. “I can’t see it.”  
“Well, I am. Honestly, I won’t deny them that one.”  
“So… is that why you dress the way you do? Everyone else here is into the popular designer stuff or whatever.”  
“Yeah, it is. They don’t like it, but that’s the point. They think I'm a blemish on their perfect little world? Tough.”  
“You know, it isn’t right. You know, how they make your life miserable just because you want to make a statement.”  
Star Lord looks me in the eye. “It’s not a statement. It’s a lifestyle.”  
“Uh, sorry!” I say and raise my hands defensively. “Please don’t hate me! I know nothing of anything!”  
Star Lord rolls his eyes. “It’s fine.” He looks down at his phone and texts some more.  
There’s a long pause. Is the conversation over?  
“You know, you’d look amazing with blue hair,” Star Lord says out of nowhere.  
Nope, not over.  
“Blue hair?” I say with a laugh. “Really?”  
Star Lord nods. “Yeah, really.”  
“Why would I look good with blue hair?”  
“Don’t question my judgement, you just would!”  
“Oh, um, thanks I guess. I think I like it the way it is right now though. I don’t mind the natural look.”  
“Either of your ears pierced?”  
I shake my head.  
“Tattoos?”  
Another shake.  
Star Lord chuckles. Damn, Eddie, Mr. Straight, huh?”  
Mr. Straight, ha, ha. I don’t tell him that I am about straight as a curve. I don’t feel in the mood to explain my sexuality just yet.  
“I’ve never really considered anything like that,” I say. “I don’t know, it just isn’t my thing. I know it’s boring, but…”  
Star Lord looks me up and down. “Hey, you look just fine to me. Man, you do you. Like I say, don’t conform to the norm if you don’t want to. Just say to hell with it and do your own thing.” He pauses for a second. “Sorry for my snippiness there.”  
“Hey, forget about it!”  
Star Lord smiles slightly out of the corner of his mouth.  
Wow, are we actually connecting? Only took an hour.  
The bus comes to a halt again and Star Lord collects his stuff. “Hey, man, this is my stop.”  
“Oh, alright. It was nice talking to you.”  
Star Lord analizes my smile a second and finally decides it’s genuine. His face has been somewhere in between stone hard and pessimistically snarky this whole time. It softens a bit.  
“Thanks,” he says.  
To my surprise he actually returns a little smile. It looks really good on his face. He should do it more often.  
I let him off and watch him as he walks up the drive to… his house? It is the oldest, nastiest looking house I’ve ever seen. There is a graveyard of old cars rusting away to nothing amidst other antiquated junk. One side of the house is a solid mountain of garbage. I blink. I guess he wasn’t joking.  
I give Star Lord a wave as the bus drives off but he doesn’t see me. Oh well.  
…

Star Lord’s POV:

The driveway to my house cuts into the forest like a sliver. It was owned by a reclusive old man before and “reclusive” is precisely why my Stepfather, AKA, Step-Douche, bought it.  
I walk past all the old junk in the yard and up the cracked path. I go in, not bothering to announce my presence. I drop my bag in the hall with my shoes and walk into the living room.  
The house smells of cigarette smoke and vaguely of alcohol.  
Mom’s in the living room watching some shitty soap opera on Lifetime.  
I plop down on the couch across from her chair and Vanessa, our pitbull, jumps onto my lap threatening to crush my femurs.  
“Hi,” I say.  
After an awkwardly long time, without looking my way, she says “hi,” back.  
“So, any customers? At the shop?” I ask.  
“The shop” is actually just a big shitty barn a few yards from the house that Step-Douche has equipment in, used to repair motorcycles and other outdoor vehicles and appliances.  
“We got a couple,” Mom says. They’re mostly bikers coming through that need a quick tune up on their way. Word’s getting around though, more and more business coming here every day. Way cheaper than any professional place. So, we have close to a thousand to play around with.”  
Ah yes, a measly bit of nothing that I frivolously hope doesn’t get squandered. Though it most likely will. I wonder what it will be this month, a bracelet that she’ll wear once and get lost in her pigsty of a room, a DoorDash from a restaurant we can’t afford, maybe a grocery sack of weed, it’s hard to tell with her.  
“So, did you learn anything?” She asks, sounding more like she’s reading off a spreadsheet rather than being genuinely curious. Shocker, there.  
I mention what we were going over in government and I get a twenty minute rant about how corrupt our government is, squeezing the freedom from the people, blah, blah, blah. “Anything else?” She asks after I have to talk her off the ceiling.  
“Well, there was a new guy in school today.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Is he cute?”  
“Gorgeous,” I say, thinking back to his dreamy face. I never let on, but I really have the hots for him. He’s probably the only interesting person I’ve met in a while. Most other guys I know are pretty dumb.  
“Did you make a move?” She asks.  
“No, of course not.”  
“Course not,” she mutters. “I don’t buy that for a second.”  
“Mom, I don’t flirt with guys. I don’t know how many times I have to fucking tell you that.”  
Mom just mutters under her breath before saying, “so, what’s the name of your new homosexual crush, huh?”  
I bite my lip a second to keep from screaming and evenly reply with, “Eddie Brock.”  
Mom immediately goes ballistic. “THE SHERIFF HAS A SON? When the hell did he get a son!”  
“I just met the guy and we talked for, like, 15 minutes, how the hell should I know that?” I demand.  
“You’re crushing on the sheriff’s SON?”  
“I never said I was crushing on anyone - YOU did. So, no. And even if I did, which I don’t, I wouldn’t. That would be playing with fucking fire.”  
I say all of that, but, I know for a fact I’m lying through my teeth about everything I just said. I would totally date him If I had the chance, regardless.  
Mom continues to not listen to anything and finally I just snap. “I’m going to my room,” I say, a bit of anger in my voice. I don’t wait for a reply and take the steps four at a time, something that would make any gym teacher proud and slam my door.  
Even from up here I can hear Mom sigh and mutter to herself.  
I hear the back door slam and look out the window to see her out in the backyard, smoking the shit out of a joint.  
“Yeah, you go do your thing, just leave me the hell alone,” I mutter.  
I flop down on my bed and stew for a little bit.  
If she’d just show at least a little enthusiasm for anything that I did and wasn’t a homophobic shithead, I’d be happy. But she is, and she hasn’t and she doesn’t and she never will, so here we sit.  
...

Eddie’s POV:

Star Lord’s house is shockingly close to Dad’s; only a few minutes pass before I get off at the driveway.  
Dad interrogates me about my day and I ramble a little, filling him in.  
I plop down in one of the living room couches, the bottom which has the consistency of quicksand. I flip through the channels to see if anything interesting is on. Nope. I set the remote on the table and check my phone. Mary Jane’s been blowing up my phone. I think I’m slowly realizing why she and Star Lord didn’t work out.  
Dad walks in, having changed into his “around the house” clothes of a t-shirt and sweatpants, and plops down in a chair with his feet up. He flips the channel to baseball, a sport I have no interest in.  
I sigh. No new YouTube notifications, no homework to do, and no way i’m spending the next two hours texting Mary Jane back and forth.  
I glance at one of the windows. It’s no longer raining outside. The sky has gone from deep shade of grey to a slightly lighter shade of grey. That’s good enough for me.  
“I’ll be back,” I say. “Going out for a walk in the woods.”  
“Be careful, Son,” Dad says. “There are dangerous animals out there.”  
I’m not sure if he’s being sarcastic or not.  
I grab my coat and head out. I breathe in the cool clear air. If nothing else, it’s at least refreshing out here. Misty spray washes over me, making me shiver. I put my hood up and pull the strings tight.  
At first I think about putting my earbuds in but decide against it. There are birds chirping and the sound of leaves rustling and a gusty breeze that make the sounds of, well, wilderness. It’s too pretty to ignore.  
Coming from a desert, anything more complex than a shrub intrigues me. In a way I feel like I’m going on an adventure or something as I follow a little hiking trail into the forest. Very soon the sounds of Marvel Falls fade away and I'm left engulfed in the sounds of the forest and nothing else.  
I’m not sure where I'm going; I’m just wandering.  
I can hear water in the distance. Pretty soon I'm upon a huge river. Raging rapids slosh violently, icy water racing to its final destination. The water is frothy and white in places, but still and crystal clear in others. As I look down I can see fish swimming around in there.  
I toss rocks and sticks into the water and watch them disappear almost instantly.  
I sit down on a large log that stretches from this bank to the next. I wonder if you could cross it. What would happen if you fell in the water?  
As I think my thoughts I hear a sound above me before a pine branch falls and hits me in the face.  
“Gha!” I yell and throw it off me.  
“Oh, shit, Eddie? Is that you? Are you ok?”  
I look up and see Star Lord near the top of a tree behind me. He waves.  
“What the hell are you doing up there?” I demand.  
Star Lord is graceful as he climbs down, way faster than I would've thought possible. He leaps down from a high branch and lands in front of me. “Hi,” he says, catching his breath.  
“Hi. What were you doing up there?” I ask.  
Eugene shrugs. “I go up there sometimes. You know, when I need to think my thoughts.” He holds up his old and cracked phone with the sparkly pink case and ruby pop socket only held together with colored duct tape. “Besides, it’s really the only good place to get reception out here.”  
We walk along the side of the river and talk. “I thought you’d be afraid of this place,” Star Lord says. City people are usually terrified of the forest.”  
I laugh. “Nope, I’m not scared. I kind of like it here. Better than the city with all the… unpleasant people I’d rather not go into.”  
Star Lord suddenly stops me and turns me around.  
“Hey, what -”  
Star Lord pulls a tissue from his pocket and hands it to me. “Your nose is bleeding.”  
As he says that I feel the trickle of red running down my face.  
“Thanks,” I say, wiping my face. He hands me a second that I plug my nose with. “Well, this is embarrassing,” I mutter, my voice sounding off.  
“Don’t feel embarrassed around me, I was the one who accidentally dropped a limb on you.”  
I smile and Star Lord does as well. Star Lord seems to catch himself smiling for once and breaks the silence. “We should get you home. It’s getting dark out anyway.”  
I hadn’t really noticed. There’s no indication other than the sky going from grey to a murky blue.  
Star Lord delivers me to the back porch, starkly illuminated by the porch light. I can hear the sound of Dad setting the table inside.  
“You want to come in?” I ask. “Dad always cooks enough food to feed an army.”  
“I’m good,” Star Lord says. “I should be getting home right now. My Mom can barely feed herself let alone my siblings. There’s a frozen pizza with our names on it.”  
I step inside and wave to Star Lord as he vanishes down the path and into the dark.


	4. A “Difference of Opinion” [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Peter Parker fight several times, coming to a head when hanging out before something bad starts to happen...

Today at lunch I shake things up. I typically sit by Mary Jane at the beginning of lunch (I haven’t quite figured out how to extricate myself from her) and sit with my actual friends for the second half. Today I pass her table entirely.  
Mary Jane looks up at me and waves, a smile on her face. I make a “call you later” sign with my free hand and walk past her table. I have never seen such a sour look on her face before.  
I pass by my friends at the center of the room. Gwen, sitting alone as she waits for the others to get their food, looks up and watches me walk. She sees where I’m going and I see a little smile spread across her face.  
I walk over to a table in the corner. It’s next to the huge wide windows to the grounds outside, the thick forests and mountains visible in the background. While it’s pretty, the windows are really drafty so most people don’t want to sit there. So of course that’s where Star Lord wants to hang out all by himself.  
He looks up from his food at me with a puzzled expression.  
“Eddie, hi, what are you doing?”  
“Just sitting down.” I shift awkwardly. “Is uh… is that ok?”  
Star Lord looks a little suspicious. “Look, I know on the bus you didn’t have any other choice but to be near me. Don’t “pity” sit next to me, ok? Good deeds don’t buy your way into heaven.”  
“I didn’t know you were religious,” I say.  
“I’m not, I assumed you were.” He motions to the cross I wear and I immediately feel as though I’ve been punched in the gut.  
“It’s - it used to be my Mom’s… it’s just sentimental.”  
“Oh.”  
“Anyway, this isn’t a pity sit or anything. I just, you know, wanted to talk to you again. I enjoyed myself yesterday. I wanted to sit here.”  
Star Lord raises an eyebrow.  
“You want me to leave? I can if you want... I'm sorry.” I feel like a complete idiot and regret the day I was ever born. I turn to leave, but Star Lord stops me.  
“No, wait! Come, on and sit down.” I go to sit across from him and he says, “I don't bite,” as my hand touches the chair. “Sorry if i gave that impression.”  
“You didn’t,” I lie.  
Shayne calls me out on it and I grin sheepishly.  
I sit down next to him.  
There is a smile on his face, wider than yesterday, that makes him look quite handsome. It really helps to relieve the tension.  
I giggle a little looking at him, but stop myself. “You know, you really should smile more often.”  
He considers. “Well, you grin constantly, so maybe you can be my coach.”  
I grin wider. I can feel Mary Jane’s icy glare from behind me, but even she can’t ruin my perfect mood. However, Peter Parker can.  
I sit and talk with Star Lord for the first half of lunch and we surprisingly get along pretty well. It takes a little bit for me to get used to his “hipster” way of thinking, but once I do he’s pretty cool. We have a lot in common. After I finish eating I say goodbye to him and leave to get rid of my tray and check in on my friends.  
“Hi guys,” I say as I approach the table.  
However, I quickly see something’s wrong. Both Gwen and Scott look upset. Their eyes meet mine and I can tell they’re terrified of what's to come. While they look terrified, Peter looks pissed.  
“Sit down, Eddie,” he says in a tone of voice I don’t like.  
“You didn’t say please,” I say, uncomfortably.  
“Just sit the fuck down and listen, alright?” Peter snaps.  
I stand blinking for a second. “You know, what, just for that, no, I won’t. What the fuck is your deal?”  
Peter just looks up at me with fire in his eyes. He holds a fork in one hand and actually bends it into an acute angle with his thumb in anger. How the hell is he that strong, that’s solid stainless steel!  
“My ‘deal’ is Peter Quill. Why the hell were you talking to him?”  
“Because I wanted to. What the hell business is it of yours anyway?”  
“Quill is a degenerate. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”  
“And you became my father when exactly?”  
“The moment you walked over there. Look, Quill is not a person you want to be associating with, ok, I’m doing you a favor!”  
“Really, because you’re coming off like an asshole. And what did he do that’s so wrong anyway?”  
“What do you mean what’s wrong with him? Just Look at him!”  
“I’m looking and I’m failing to see the picture.”  
Peter lets out a loud roar. “You know what, fuck it, I’m out of here!” He slams his ruined fork down on the stable so hard the tines penetrate the plastic and run deep into the compressed wood beneath, and storms off, slamming the cafeteria doors behind him with enough force he’s lucky the glass doesn’t shatter.  
“What exactly was that?” I demand.  
Both Gwen and Scott sigh.  
“I am so sorry about that,” Gwen says. “He was fine but the moment he saw you with Peter Quill, he just lost it. I tried to talk him down but…”  
“Does he do that a lot?” I ask.  
“Unfortunately,” Scott says. “He’s a good guy most of the time but… certain… things set him off. He’ll get over it.”  
“He’d better. I don’t like people treating me like that.”  
“Most people don’t. We’re able to put up with him but… yeah. It’s difficult.”  
...  
After school while on the bus I text Peter. I haven’t been able to talk to him in between classes or anything. Every time I think of the spat we had in the lunchroom my stomach knots.  
Star Lord is livid when I tell him what happened and goes on a tie traid about how terrible Peter is. I guess Mary Jane isn’t the only one he has serious beef with.  
After a few minutes Peter responds to my text.  
“What do you want?” he texts.  
“I just want to talk. I don’t want to be angry. Please?”  
After a few more seconds Peter replies with, “meet me in the junkyard, it’s outside of town.”  
I Google Map check the location of this place and am pleasantly surprised to find it’s only a twenty minute walk from Dad’s house.  
After getting home I drop off my backpack and head in the direction of the junkyard. I find myself grumbling at first, having to walk all the way there for lack of a ride, but decide that I need the exercise anyway. I should have grabbed a Coke from the fridge, I’m thirsty. That would’ve been smart and we can't have that from me.  
The junkyard is… well… a junkyard. Tons of metal things rust away in large heaps all around. It would probably be dusty if the bare dirt was dry. Now it’s just muddy. I’m regretting wearing my sneakers.  
It’s getting kind of late, though you’d never be able to tell from the brooding grey sky.  
I’m the only one here at the moment. I wander around aimlessly as I wait for Peter to show up.  
I pull up my hood as it starts to sprinkle. From my three days here I know that there are often brief showers that can last five to ten minutes and then just stop like someone turning off a faucet. The sprinkle turns to a heavy shower.  
“Fuck me!” I shout.  
I look around and see an old truck parked slightly off the path. I try the door and when it opens, I get in. The rain beats down hard on the roof. It’s an old truck; a huge thing built like a tank. It smells strongly of cigarette smoke and alcohol.  
I wonder who owned this thing before.  
I notice a slip of paper on the dashboard and I read it. It’s a little police report that details how this vehicle belonged to a drug dealer before it was cleaned out and dragged here. The report is old and moldy in my hands. I crumple it up and wipe my hands on my pants.  
As I suspected, the rain stops after a minute or so.  
I look out the crusty window and see several people approach.  
I get out of the truck, slamming the heavy door behind me.  
“Hi Peter.”  
“Hi, Eddie,” Peter says. He has a smile on his face, but I can tell that his guard is up. He stands with his hands in the pockets of his orange hoodie. He motions to the guy next to him. “This is a friend of mine, Wade Wilson.”  
Wade doesn’t smile nor say any greeting.  
Wade is a shaggy haired, scruffy faced blonde boy who appears to be our age or slightly older. He has a tattoo of a dragon that spirals around his neck and down past the collar of his shirt to his chest. Must be a bitch trying to find work with ink like that. He is taking long drags off a cigarette.  
“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Peter asks, though we both know the answer.  
“I really don’t appreciate the way you treated me during lunch and I really don’t want it to happen again. I’d like to think we were doing fine until that blow up. I like you, Peter, but not when you’re angry.”  
Peter kicks the wet earth with his steel tipped boots, splattering mud against the side of the truck. “Yeah, I know. I can get nasty. I’m not proud of it.”  
Wade glowers and grinds his teeth before suddenly getting in my face. “You insulting my boy, huh? Who are you, waltzing in here; trying to order us around?”  
I glare at him and growl. “Are we going to have problems, you and me?”  
“Wade pull back the fucking fangs, aright?” Peter says, exasperated. He pulls Wade backwards away from me.  
Wade slaps Peter’s hands away. “Ok, fine, whatever!” he grumbles as he hops into the truck bed and angrily puffs his cigarette. I get the feeling he could immediately lunge into something more violent.  
Peter and I mosey to the front of the truck and sit on the slightly concaved hood.  
“You’ll have to excuse him,” Peter says, hiking a thumb behind him at Wade. “He’s a good guy at heart, but he’s on a hair trigger.”  
“I can see that.”  
Peter shifts uncomfortably. “Look, about what happened earlier…” Te trails off as he tries to figure out how to best word it. “I was having a really shitty day and seeing you talking with that guy it just set me off.”  
“Why were you having such a bad day?”  
“There was just a ton of shit building up.”  
He pauses for a while and I assume he’s finished before he decides to elaborate.  
“Last night I had this huge fight with my Dad. There was a lot of screaming involved.”  
He gives me a little recount of his father going off on him for something stupid that ended in eugene saying, “get your ass off that couch and fucking make me.” He ran off after his dad indeed leaped up and came after him with bared fists.  
“I don’t think that he would have hit me. He’s not that much of an asshole, but he’s far from perfect.”  
I don’t know what to say. I try to console him in some way but he just brushes it off.  
“It’s fine,” he says.  
I can tell by the look in his eyes that it isn’t.  
“We used to be close when I was younger, but Mom died and it really went down the shithole. He remarried but she might as well just be a roommate for all the emotional connection we all have.  
“I didn’t know your Mom died,” I say. Peter nods.  
“My Mom’s dead too,” I blurt out. I feel like my heart is shattering into a billion metallic slivers and puncturing the rest of my organs as I say it.  
“I guess we have something in common then,” Peter says.  
“God you two are really getting sappy!” Wade says as he walks from the back end of the truck towards us. He has another cigarette in his mouth and is fumbling with the lighter.  
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Wade!” Peter yells, though he doesn’t sound all that upset.  
“Is this a regular occurrence between you two?” I ask.  
“More or less,” Peter says. “Wade has a heart of stone and fists about as hard.”  
“You know it from first hand experience,” Wade says. “When you were with that Mary Jane bitch, you went on that tantrum and threw a punch at me. I kicked your ass something good!”  
“Nearly broke my nose.”  
“We both just stood there half dead and bleeding and bruised and then we just started laughing. Best friends ever since.”  
Peter nods in agreement.  
“Am I better than those three you were with?” Wade asks.  
“Just as, but for different reasons,” Peter says.  
“Those administrator fuckers,” Wade grumbles rolling his eyes. “I got kicked out last year,” he says with a smile that can only be prideful. “It’s the only school for miles so they put up with a lot of shit, but I broke them.”  
I’m tired of sitting. I get up from the hood and walk around the truck. “This bad boy saved me from getting drenched,” I say.  
“Lucky you, we got caught in the rain,” Peter says.  
I carefully examine the truck. It might have been yellow with a lime green hood and stripe along the sides and tailgate, but it’s long since dissolved into dirty rusty browns. I run my hand over the side.  
“Careful you don’t get rust splinters,” Peter says. You could get tetanus or lockjaw or something.”  
“God, are you this guy’s mother?” Wade demands.  
“I can see that you and I are not going to get along,'' I say to Wade.  
“I would say that any friend of Peter’s is a friend of mine, but I’d be lying through my teeth,'' Wade says.  
“I guess we have mutual feelings,” I say flatly.  
I ignore Wade and go back to examining the truck.  
I pat the side of the truck. “This thing is a real monster.”  
Peter nods. “Yeah, sure is. It’s built to last. It’s an oldie.  
Wade just looks at me with an amused look on his face.  
I look in the cab again. The seats are used well but they aren’t torn or holed or anything. “I need a vehicle…” I mumble under my breath. “That was something I was going to work on before the accident. Do you guys know anything about vehicles?”  
Both boys nod. “My dad owns a machine shop, Peter says. He runs it about half the time.”  
“I wonder if this old boy still runs,” I muse.  
“You’re kidding, right?” Wade says. “This thing is a piece of shit. Why even bother?”  
“I don’t know; I guess I just need a hobby or something.”  
“I wouldn't,” Wade says. “You might break a nail or something.”  
I ignore him once more as I pop the hood and take a look inside. I’m not much of a car expert but it seems to have just been parked here. I don’t think there is anything devastatingly wrong with it.  
“Well, I think I’ll try and work on it anyway. We might even have enough parts here to work with.”  
Peter nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think we might be able to scrounge something up here.”  
Wade rolls his eyes. “Alright, fine, if you insist. You try not to be so annoying and I’ll help you and Peter with this clunker, deal?”  
“Um… deal?” I say, unsureidly.  
My pocket buzzes. “It’s my dad,” I say, reading the new text message. “I’ve gotta go, dinner’s almost ready.”  
“Uh huh, yeah, bye,” Wade says dismissively.  
“We can make a plan to work on this old boy later,” Peter says patting the hood of the truck. “And, eddie, I really am sorry.”  
“Forget about it,” I say. “Just don’t do it again. I grin. “Or I might have to sick my father on you, like my own personal attack dog.” I give Peter a playful punch before walking home.  
...  
The rest of the week goes by quickly for me.  
I’m rapidly getting used to this new school and the town. It’s kind of nice here. Everything is in a central location, easy to get to.  
I think my friends back home hate me now because whenever I mention my new friends they get moody and say they’re busy. I suppose they weren’t quite as loyal as previously thought.  
Mary Jane has silently dropped me, which is fine. She just stopped talking to me and ignores me. Considering I’m hanging out with two of her exes and am not exactly interesting enough to have her attention it makes sense. Good riddance.  
Most of her so-called friends are more like glorified assistants who wait on her hand and foot. I don’t want to be in with a crowd that has a feudal system like that.  
Since Mary Jane and I parted ways I’ve been receiving glares from Misty whenever she and her group walk by. Quick Silver just ignores me and Erin always gives a little nervous wave.  
I’m not sure why a timid girl like Erin would be interested in that group and vice versa. Then again, she’s the same timid girl who, for some reason, carries around a cigarette lighter painted up like a WWII flying tiger. Maybe she has more going on than meets the eye.  
I’ve started hanging out with Peter, Gwen and Scott full time now. There hasn’t been a repeat outburst from Peter and I intend to keep it that way. I only hang out with Star Lord on the bus. Despite that we still are on ok terms.  
Over the course of the week Peter, Wade and I have met in the junkyard to fix up that old truck I’ve taken a fancy to. Peter and Wade do most of the work while I stand by. I know very little about vehicles. I mostly just keep them company.  
My initial thought was correct. The truck had very little wrong with it. A few new parts under the hood, an oil change and a full tank of gas and it roars to life when we turn the key previously hidden under the mat. It makes an initial sound like a WWII era tank before settling down to a low rumble. We give it a test drive and it drives well. It’s got a lot of power behind it. Peter attaches a licence plate from an old junker from his Dad’s shop and it’s good to go.  
It’s the same vehicle that I drive to meet Peter, Gwen and Scott at the bowling alley with. They have a tradition of going to the bowling alley every other weekend to hang out, out from under the eye of parents. Dad was totally cool with me going out tonight. He likes the group and is just happy I found some friends this quick. He gives me the stereotypical “be back by ten and take a jacket” bit as I walk out the door.  
I drive to the bowling alley which is about twenty minutes outside of town. I hear there are some wild parties out there as a result.  
I pull into the parking lot and see Gwen’s car, a tiny expensive sports car with a custom purple paint job. It’s parked next to some beat up looking pickup truck. I think it was yellow once upon a time but has long since rusted away all over making it resemble an old banana. I think it’s Scott’s parents’.  
I enter the bowling alley into a little airlock. There’s a door off to the side that lights up like a disco. There’s music coming from the inside. It sounds really…. Nice. I stand like an idiot for a minute before breaking away and going inside.  
I see Scott a few lanes down dressed in slacks and a bowling shirt so huge it has to be his father’s. He already has his shoes and beverages and looks impatient.  
“Oh, hey!” He calls over to me.  
I walk over to him and we fist bump. We twittle our fingers as we pull back with intentional awkwardness and loudly make the sounds of a spaceship blasting off. It’s pretty busy in here tonight and people turn and give us weird looks. I could care less let them gawk.  
“Where’s Gwen?” I ask looking around. “I saw her car in the lot.”  
Scott shrugs. “I assume in the bathroom. She’s lactose intolerant and some newbie at the McDonalds gave her milk in her coffee instead of soy. She must have the Hershey squirts at the moment.”  
I raise up my hands. “Woah, woah, TMI dude!”  
Scott motions up to the game screen mounted from the ceiling. “I already plugged you into the game,” he says.  
“You misspelled my last name. There’s no “L” in “Brock.”  
Martin winks knowingly and I roll my eyes.  
“Where’s Peter, is he not here either?”  
“He’s probably going to be here soon. He has to wait for his Dad to get back from the bar.”  
“Bar?”  
“Yeah, I guess he’s a big time drinker. Never met him, but from the way Peter talks about him he’s… questionable.”  
“Yeah, he mentioned him the other day. He sounds like a real tool.”  
I get my ball and shoes and find that the others are still not here. I buy a drink and a candy bar for a snack while we wait. Scott and I drift over to a long line of ancient 8 bit arcade games. I pop in a quarter and proceed to destroy the high score of whoever named themselves “unnamed gothic”.  
As I play, I’m aware of a new person next to me. It’s Star Lord! He’s down on one knee popping quarters into a gumball machine. In three seconds flat he has four gumballs in his hand. In that amount of time I would still be fumbling with the quarters. He stands up and goes to walk off but turns on his heels.  
“Eddie? I didn’t know you were here!”  
I smile. “Just hanging out.”  
I eye him up and down. “I love your outfit, it’s the real cats meow!”  
Star Lord wears a stark white t-shirt and jeans that contrast sharply with his ratty red high top sneakers, rainbow knitted scarf around his neck, arms adorned with silly bands, and his mismatched earrings.  
Star Lord smiles and shakes the gumballs in his hand like dice. “You want one?” he asks  
“Sure.”  
“Here, I’m not a fan of the purple ones.”  
I pop it into my mouth and remember why I usually don’t get them. “Kind of stale,” I note.  
“Yeah, they usually are. I like them though. They have a nostalgic taste to them I guess, used to get them all the time as a kid. Whenever I see them I always get some.”  
“I guess we all have that one thing that we can’t resist. For me it’s those stupid gas station jelly doughnuts. I can’t stay away from them! They call my name in the middle of the night, ‘Eddie, Eddie, come and eat me, Eddie!’” It’s a wonder I’m not the size of a blimp with how much junk food I eat.  
Star Lord laughs, his voice like a wind chime. The sight of the smile on his face that replaces the scowl is still so charming.  
I take a step closer to him without thinking. Star Lord sees me inching closer and seems momentarily confused but a little smile spreads across his face and he leans in as well. We both move at a snail's pace.  
Scott has stopped playing his game and stares at us. His character runs into a wall and dies three times before he even notices. “Oh shit!” He mutters. As Star Lord’s face and mine are millimeters away from one another.  
EDDIE! Screams a voice from the bowling alley entrance. He storms over, his face such a shade of bright red I half expect cartoon steam to start billowing from his ears. His hand grips his bowling bag so tight his knuckles are white.  
Star Lord’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!” He mumbles under his breath. “I think I’m just going to excuse myself -”  
“Eddie, what the actual fuck are you doing?” Peter bellows.  
“We were just talking!” I snap. “What the fuck are you doing, huh? Are you ‘having a bad day’ now too? Why are you screaming at me?”  
“Because you deliberately disobeyed me -”  
“Disobeyed? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not your slave -”  
Peter grabs my wrist and sharply yanks me away from Star Lord. his grip is like a vice.  
“OW, OW, OW, THAT HURTS!”  
“It should, that’s what you get for talking to -” and he drops the f word.  
“Peter, stop it!” I yell, starting to feel genuinely afraid. I try extracting myself from his grip but he holds on tight. In fact, he gives another sharp yank that nearly dislocates my arm.  
My defences suddenly flare up and I dig my nails into his hand, dragging down, leaving a shallow scratch. He yelps loudly and releases me.  
I back up a few paces. “What the fuck is your deal? We were good all week, why are you acting worse than before? What gives you the right to storm in and drag me around?”  
Peter jabs a finger at Star Lord and starts screaming the most hateful homophobic rhetoric I’ve ever heard in my life.  
Star Lord just stands there a second before he becomes equally enraged and bares his fists. “Ok, fucker, you wanna call me the f word, I’ll show you how hard this “not-a-man” can beat your god damed ass!”  
“How dare you take the Lord’s name in vain?!” Peter shrieks. He gets up into Star Lord’s face and is about to start punching him before Scott intervenes, shoving Peter away. Peter glares daggers at Scott.  
“Ok, I’m done with this shit, ok? Who do you think you are? You’re not Eddie’s Dad who needs to chace all the bad ol’ boys away, nor are you doing the Lord’s work by beating the shit out of a gay guy, alright?”  
We all stand in a large rectangle, ready to rip each others’ heads off.  
Of course, this is the time Gwen decides to return. “Hi guys,” she says perkilly and unknowingly. “Sorry, bathroom issues. Did I miss anything?”  
Peter and Scott both start screaming over each other trying to give their version of events while waving their arms in a hyperactive sort of chicken dance. They end up squaring off, Peter seconds away from actually beating on Scott.  
Gwen runs her fingers through her hair and sighs deeply. “I’ll take that as a yes.”  
She briskly walks over and gets in between Scott and Peter. “Alright, Peter, it’s over!” she says. “Either relax, or leave! We can’t deal with this shit right now, and we shouldn’t have to!”  
“Oh, so you’re siding with the homo?”  
“I’m siding with human decency. You can’t handle that then consider Scott, Eddie and I out, alright?”  
Peter just stands, incredulously. Gwen glares at him, her eyes piercing.  
Before he can do or say anything else his phone starts buzzing. He stomps away and answers.  
“What is it, Penny?” He snaps.  
Even from over here I can hear Penny, whoever that is, screaming at the top of her lungs and crying, though I can’t tell what she’s saying. Peter goes rigid with fear.  
“Penny? Penny, relax, I can’t understand you!”  
He lets her speak, becoming more and more panicked by the second. The line cuts out. Peter looks up at us abruptly, his face gaunt.  
“Something’s happening at my house! An animal attack or something, my sister’s in trouble!”  
“Penny?” Star Lord says. “Christ, she always comments on my instagram posts, she’s the coolest! She’s in trouble?”  
Peter looks at Gwen, Scott and I. “Ok, If you guys really are my friends, then I need your help, like now!”  
We rush to my car and pile in, Me as the driver, Gwen and Star Lord next to me, Peter and Scott in back. I hit the gas and shoot out of there as fast as possible. The owner runs at us, yelling that we left wearing our bowling shoes, but we ignore him and peel off. 

WILLOW, AN: MARK WHAT THE HELL? What did you do to Peter? Dude, he was going to be my love interest! Why would you make him such a horrible person like that?!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Look sis i was just trying to add some conflict n stuff i didnt know he was your love intrest n stuff! besides peter was kinda of a dick in spidervwers right?! If he can be mean n stuff why cant he bea homophone?

WILLOW, AN: he wasn’t a dick, he was damaged, he lost everything! And besides, I highly doubt he’d ever be a homophobe. Seriously, Mark, turn your goddamned spellcheck on. Lucas! Why didn’t you do something about this! 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Look williw, i dont need spellcheck im fine ok! besides lucaz is doin the editing and stuff!

LUCAS, AN: Um, Mark, the final product looks ok only because I use the spelling and grammar check thing in Google Docs before I even start the final draft. And Willow, I’m just the editor here, ok? I don’t give a shit what your beef is, I’m not the one writing the story, ok? If you have beef, talk to each other beforehand, alright? 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Hey willow! You think yester day was bad huh????? You want bad ill show you bad allrite?!!?


	5. A Family Fallen to Pieces [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's exactly what you think it is...

Everyone in the truck are on their toes with anticipation. Not the good kind, the nasty kind where you’re really dreading what you’re doing and where you're going. Nobody’s prepared and nobody wants to do this.  
I’m not keen on death. Ever since I was a little kid I’d watch old reruns of Colombo and MacMillan and Wife reruns with my Mom. Now that I’m actually here though, possibly having to actually see real blood... It makes me shudder and grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.  
There are so many people sleeping right now, or watching Netflix, or having fun back at the bowling alley. They’re all so happy and unaware. I envy them.  
All of us are silent. We’re so wrapped up in our own heads, we have little to talk about.  
As soon as I pull up to the house, it was clear to see that something’s very wrong. The Parker home, a pleasant looking house that would be nice looking and quaint in the daylight, looms over us with its three stories, looking like the Amityville Horror house in the darkness.  
All the lights are out but there’s an odd flickering in the kitchen window like mini bolts of lightning. Several windows on the second floor had been broken outwards. A couch and several reclining chairs lay in huge mangled chunks in the drive amidst a minefield of glass shards. It looks like they’ve been thrown from the upper floor windows.  
Scott starts whimpering from the back seat. “What the hell happened here?”  
“Animal?” Gwen says, “maybe a rabid bear or something?”  
The moment I stop the truck we pile out and run towards the house.  
Whatever it was got through the front door and utterly mangled it in order to do so. The door is bent backwards, the metal dented, crushed and twisted. It’s jammed hard; a corner of the door digging into the wood floor.  
We enter the front door and immediately stop dead.  
The whole kitchen is horrific. The floor is completely covered in blood. It’s pooled in every crack and cranny. It’s seeping into the wood. It’s pooled all the way to the entrance like a wide barely half-an-inch deep pool.  
There are objects from the countertops that’ve been knocked to the bloody floor and dyed burgundy.  
Dining room chairs lay in pieces everywhere.  
The dining table, ironically, is in perfect condition. Extravagantly prepared food is set out, long since gone cold. It looks like Peter’s family had just been sitting down to dinner when the intruder had entered.  
The hanging light fixture previously over the table is now on the floor, blood pooling around it making it seem like a chrome island in a sea of red. From the socket in the ceiling, a few wires still protrude, giving off nasty looking jolts of pure electricity.  
“What the fuck?” Scott breathes. “Were they exsanguinated? How can there be this much blood?”  
Peter breaks from his shock and rushes through the room, blood spattering his pant legs. “MOM?! DAD?! PENNY?!” Peter shouts as he rushes around looking for them. His calls end abruptly, replaced by a blood curdling scream of horror.  
Blood slaps beneath our feet as we rush after Peter. We find him in the living room. The moment we see what he’s screaming at we all follow suit.  
This room is as destroyed as the previous. The once mint green carpeting is now mostly red. The overhead light is shattered to pieces and a floor lamp has its spine bent in a sharp curve and flickers, barely functional anymore.  
The three members of the Parker family are sitting on a couch at the far end of the room. Blood is everywhere, splattered on the walls and soaked into the furniture and carpeting.  
Mr. Parker sits in the middle. He had once been a short, plump man with a pleasant smile and a bushy mustache that made him look like a human version of the Lorax. Not anymore. His mouth is open; the bottom jaw held to the top just barely by few strings of flesh and sinew. Teeth are missing along with a whole side of his head. Most of his neck looks to be ripped roughly away.  
Mrs. Parker is to his left, her body tilted over, leaning on her husband’s shoulder. Most of her shoulders and arms are gone and look to have been gnawed away. Deep gashes riddle her. Most of her clothing has been shredded away.  
To Mr. Parker’s right is Peter’s younger sister, Penny. She’s the most gruesome of the three. Both her eyes are gouged out, almost tauntingly. Her arms and legs are all broken in several places, twisted in ways that make my own limbs feel a subconscious jabbing. Her mouth is open in a wide “O” shape; the remnants of her final scream.  
One thing that all three bodies have in common is that they’ve been disemboweled. Ribs have been yanked right out and tossed around the room like confetti. There is nothing left inside their chest cavities. It’s a most un-neat job.  
Scott suddenly vomits down the front of himself.  
Gwen covers her mouth tightly with both hands, a muffled moan escaping through her fingers.  
Star Lord holds his scarf over his face and hyperventilates.  
Peter just stands and cries.  
I’m doubled over trying not to have a full fledged panic attack.  
“What did this?” Gwen chokes. “They’re… they’re like grotesque trophies… like a calling card…”  
“Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this, I’m calling the police!” Scott squeals and flees.  
“I’m so… I’m so sorry…” Star Lord says softly. He goes to touch Peter’s shoulder who bucks and screams to be left alone.  
Gwen gently takes Peter’s arm in hers and practically has to drag him from the room.  
We exit the house and I have never been more happy to breathe in fresh air.  
Scott stands near my truck, phone to his ear, and frantically speaks to the 911 operator.  
Gwen is with Peter doing her best to keep him from completely breaking down, though she herself is sobbing.  
I stand, hugging myself. I look up as Star Lord approaches. I impulsively leap forward and hug him as tight as possible. He goes stiff for a second before hugging me back.  
The yard is dark, only vaguely lit by my truck’s headlights and silent except for muffled weeping and the rumble of my truck’s engine. Then, a new sound begins, a rustling sound.  
My head darts in the direction of the sound. My inner voice states over and over that it’s just a small animal. The rustling becomes louder and more pronounced. Whatever this thing is, it’s big.  
I feel Star Lord’s grip on my shirt tighten; he hears it too.  
“Guys!” I say, my voice breaking with fear. I point a shaky finger towards the woods meer yards away.  
We can hear the whatever-it-is out there, breathing heavily. It’s stopped at the border between mowed lawn and wild forest. Even in the dim light I can make out a vague silhouette.  
“What is it?” Scott says, teeth chattering.  
“I think it’s a person!” Gwen says softly.  
Suddenly, Peter rips away from Gwen, grabs a large chunk of wood and holds it like a baseball bat, ready to swing. “HEY YOU, OUT THERE, WE HEAR YOU!”  
“Peter!” Gwen says shrilly. “Don’t!”  
“SHOW YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!” Peter bellows.  
The sillhouette’s face suddenly lights up as two large bugging misshapen white eyes open and a gastly fluorescent mouth grins up wide like a Cheshire cat. “Gladly,” the creature says in a gravelly and slimey voice.  
The thicket explodes outwards. We all shriek as the creature lets out the scream of a hydraulic construction machine and leaps high and far and lands perfectly behind Peter.  
Peter turns just in time to see a hand snatch him by the throat and raise him up off the ground. Peter squirms and thrashes. The creature takes the plank of wood from peter and crushes it to splinters in its fist.  
We all watch in horror as the creature draws back its fist and, in one powerful and fluid motion, punches Peter. The sound of a mellon being dropped reverberates through the yard. Blood and chunks of bone fly in every direction like an explosion. Peter’s body drops to the ground, his head now a giant gaping hole of jagged bone and globs of liquified brain matter.  
The creature turns to face us, still grinning. It brings its fingers to its mouth and with a long serpentine tongue laps some of the blood from its fingers.  
“Who’s next?” It says with glee. It makes eye contact with me and a split second later rushes at me, it’s body a flurry of red skin and flailing tendrils.  
Star Lord is sent flying backwards and I am pinned to the ground by a huge fist in the center of my chest. Its head shoots down for mine and I throw an arm up defensively. It’s angler fish fangs penetrate my skin like hot butter and grind against my bones like metal against stone.  
I watch in horror as a thick black liquid oozes from its gums, down its fangs and right into the open wound. Somehow that liquid hurts worse than the bite. As soon as it touches my flesh I am in pain. Colors explode before my eyes and my voice breaks from screaming so loud.  
The creature unclamps its jaw and begins swiping at my chest with razor sharp claws, eviscerating my flesh. I writhe and wail, my blood exploding from me. That dark liquid floods through me, setting my veins on fire.  
The creature leaps backwards and looks down at me with that sadistic grin. “Perfect…” It hisses.  
It’s eyes then go wide as it turns its head just in time to see Scott ram into the creature with the front of my truck, the force of which sending him flying backwards into the house. The siding concaves, plastic and paint flakes flying.  
Sirens blare in the background. The creature recoves in seconds and makes its final large leap over the treetops into the forest. We can hear it tearing through the brush for a few seconds before the forest goes silent again.  
The last thing I’m aware of is Gwen, Scott and Star Lord all on their knees around me, sobbing, before being pulled away by the paramedics. Everything goes black as the red and blue lights flash.  
…  
The open casket wake before Mom’s funeral was easily the worst experience of my life.  
I had to avoid looking at the casket as though Mom’s body was Medusa, ready to turn me to stone. Any time I glanced in that direction and saw Mom laid out, embalmed, hands on her chest, cold dead fingers gripping a bouquet of her favorite flowers, I’d burst into tears.  
When the time for speeches came, I went up first. I had so much I wanted to say in the moment. I rambled on for probably about ten minutes. I talked about how she was depressed because her meds needed to be adjusted but the doctor refused saying “more time was needed to get used to it.” Three months was apparently “not enough time.” I talked about her mentally volatile and borderline inability to function. I talked about how I took care of her more than she did me. I talked about her back and forth feelings for Rick, the man she married yet couldn’t stand to live with. And I talked about how I understood why she did what she did, but how much I wished she hadn’t.  
Rick had to physically walk me down off the stage and to my seat because I was too distraught to do so myself.  
...  
I am awoken from sleep by the gentle beeping of a heart monitor. I take a sharp breath as I become fully conscious, breathing in the scent of antiseptic, soap and heavily bleached sheets.  
As I lay here in what I assume to be a hospital bed I find it difficult to open my eyes. No, not difficult, impossible. My limbs won’t work either. Nothing is working. A surge of panic rushes through me causing the heart monitor to spike sharply.  
Stop, time is needed! My inner thoughts say. I need time to finish, to bond!  
I hear a door open and the sound of footsteps.  
What is this? My inner thoughts say.  
My eyes open to bright fluorescent overhead lights. There is a nurse checking the machine.  
A surge of anxiety floods over me. I need to know about the others; what happened to them? I try to regain my senses and speak.  
Don’t. Powerlessness is bliss. Control is pain.  
My brain screams as I try to take control and after a few seconds of going red in the face with determination, my movements come back to me.  
I sit up, sharply, making the nurse jump.  
Suddenly, all at once, all the pain hits at once. My right arm and chest are covered in thick bandages and both throb from being broken and fractured. My head throbs with what I can only assume to be a concussion. My eyes feel like they’re being squeezed by cruel fingers. My lower limbs are nearly numb; they hurt so bad. Whatever skin that wasn’t slashed away stings.  
And yet, overshadowing it all, is an indescribable pain that makes the life threatening mauling look like papercuts. It’s everywhere, in my skin, my bones, and my vital organs. My pumping blood feels like volcanic magma in my veins.  
Hot tears rush down my face.  
“Mr. Brock, are you alright -”  
“I n-need pain k-killer NOW!” I spit.  
The Nurse rushes out for a second and returns with the mother of all needles. “You may feel a little disoriented when this starts to take effect,” the nurse says as she injects the fluid through the IV in my arm.  
The effects of the substance start almost instantly. I can actually feel it winding through my body. The pain is still there, but a veil’s been thrown over it.  
Shortly after I do indeed start to get disoriented. The room’s colors flash a little and my head swims.  
“Excuse me,” I say to the nurse, “I was with friends. Scott, Gwen, Peter and… the other Peter. Where are they?”  
“Your three friends are here,” The nurse says. “They’re in the waiting room. Do you feel well enough to see them, they’ve been waiting for some time.”  
I nod.  
A few seconds later Gwen, Scott, and Star Lord come in.  
“Hey, man, how you doing?” Scott asks.  
“Not Great.”  
Gwen sits in a chair next to me and clasps her hand on mine. “We were really scared for you. You think you’re going to pull through?”  
“Hopefully.”  
Scott nods to Star Lord. “Someone over there was crying the whole ride over here.”  
Star Lord hugs himself and raises his nose in the air. “Well I’m sorry If my sensitivity annoyed you.”  
“Chill out, It was a joke,” Scott mutters.  
A while later Dad shows up. He is a blubbering mess, rambling and sobbing. I try my best to keep him calm, but It doesn’t help much.  
After about an hour Dad and the others are shooed out by the staff so I can get some rest. I guess it is the middle of the night still.

WILLOW, AN: Oh my fucking God Mark! What the actual FUCK? Seriously? You KILLED Peter and his whole family? Lucas, why didn’t you tell me about this? Why did you just go ahead and leave that in?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
>: )

LUCAS, AN: Look, Willow, I told you before, you and Mark are the ones who need to talk, alright? IT’S. NOT. MY. STORY. I really don’t give a shit where it goes or how it does or anything like that, ok? I just stitch this shit together! Besides, I’m rather enjoying all this!


	6. The Venom Inside [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie meets Venom for the first time and strangeness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several extremely explicit sex scenes in this chapter, be prepared!

I’m not sure when I fell asleep but I’m jolted awake an indeterminate amount of time later by a strange voice. It’s loud, booming and kind of phlegmy.  
“Wake up,” The voice demands.  
My eyes dart around the room looking for the source of the voice. There’s no loudspeaker in the room, and even if there was, the voice is too clear to be coming from one.  
“Who’s there?” I ask out loud.  
“No need to speak, Eddie, I'm right here.”  
“Wait, what?”  
“I’m right here,” The voice says again.  
I blink. “A-are you… in my head?”  
“Yes. I was. I said not to move and you ignored me. Did you think I was your consciousness?”  
“Wait… you’re a voice… in my head?” I mumble.  
“A voice?” The voice chuckles. It’s a deep growl that sounds unnatural and creepy. “Oh, Eddie, I assure you, I am so much more!”  
Suddenly, I’m aware of something inside of me, in my gut, my chest, my head. My insides squirm, but it’s not quite a physical feeling, or at least not one I could even begin to describe. There’s another presence in my head, just barely on the edge of my awareness.  
Now I’m utterly terrified. “What’s going on?” I whimper.  
“You have been very sick. Your human body is infuriating. I… I have a difficult time getting it to work. It is not like what I should be inside of. I don’t know why, but it just feels… wrong somehow.”  
“I don’t think you should be in anything.”  
“Oh, please,” The voice says in an irritated tone. “This is not about you, but me. You are the vessel, I am the resident.”  
“You’re a parasite?”  
Immediately I jerk wildly, not of my own volition, so hard I come right up out of the bed and the back of my head hits the wall behind me.  
“Never use that word!” It snaps. “I am not so insignificant! I am of an ancient breed, quite unlike you who are a simple simpering carbon based life form!”  
I start sobbing a little. I can't believe it - I am completely out of control of my own body!  
I am released just as quickly as I was taken over.  
“Who are you?” I ask.  
“I am Venom.”  
“What are you?” I ask. “I feel like that’s something I’m entitled to know. If you’re not a voice in my head and you're not a - you know - then what are you?”  
“I’ll show you,” Venom’s disembodied voice says inside my skull.  
My stomach lurches when I feel something beneath my shirt around my shoulder area. It’s like mercury, a liquid that isn’t wet.  
The whatever-it-is sprouts like some kind of Lovecraftian eldritch vine that slowly extends outwards and then curls back towards me. It’s a deep black, barely visible in the dark, and has a textured appearance somewhere in-between melting candle wax and a complex weaving of spiderwebs. The protrusion morphs and shifts as it comes closer to my face. In horror, I realize it’s changing into a face.  
The face is that of an absolute monster. It’s face is vaguely humanoid. It’s devoid of a nose of ears. The only two features are eyes - large sharp tipped ovals with a trail that curls up from the corners of them, and the mouth - a huge gaping maw filled with long razor sharp teeth and a long pink tongue that lolls out and flips and curls in every direction, sending droplets of thick drool everywhere in the process. (WILLOW AN: Think how he looked in the 2018 Venom movie!)  
The sound of a leaking balloon escapes my throat. My whole body shudders with absolute fear.  
The monstrous face grins widely, seeming amused by my fear.  
“This is my true face, Eddie,” the face - Venom - says. “The face of a being you’ve presumably never encountered before on this planet.”  
“No,” I squeak.  
“You fear me,” Venom observes, “you are quite right to do so! I’m not called ‘Venom’ for nothing!” He gnashes his teeth and lets out a guttural chuckle that shakes me to my core.  
“What do you want from me?” I mumble.  
“Only your cooperation,” Venom says. “Work with me. This is my body now. We exist together. It’s becoming clearer and clearer to me that there was a mistake of some kind. I’m here, I can live here, but you are not… how should I put this… the preferred choice.”  
I’m still quaking in utter fear.  
“You’re no good to me if you die of fright,” Venom muses, drool dripping from his lipless maw and splattering the sheets below. “I shall recede. For now.” He chuckles as his form sinks into my body, through my clothes, and out of sight.  
I start hyperventilating and stress tears form in my eyes. “Why is this happening to me? I am so confused!”  
“Things will make sense soon,” Venm says inside my head, “I am nearly done making you a worthwhile host.”  
“Worthwhile host?”  
“Yes; you are quite pathetic indeed. However, Immediate damage takes precedent. See for yourself?”  
Now that I think about it, the pain that had made my body feel overly full now seems to be gone. The arm that had the IV drip is now free, the needle seemingly having been pushed right out of my skin from the inside. I run that arm over my chest. My fractured ribs feel fully intact and painless. All the fingers on both hands move perfectly. It’s as though my mauling mere hours earlier never happened. The scratches all over my face are completely healed. The crisscross of scabs crumble away as my fingers brush against them.  
“See? Impressive, isn’t it?”  
“Um… yes?”  
“Your human bodies are so feeble. They refuse to heal on their own. I’m still… adjusting to this form. Once I do, any injury should be an instant fix.”  
Suddenly, Venom takes control of my arm, reaches it up and grips my fingers around the cast on my second arm.  
“Now, remove these bandages. I’d do it myself, but I’m saving energy for our escape.”  
“Escape?”  
“Yes. Now, remove these!”  
“But, the hospital is fine, I’m supposed to be here -”  
Venom’s face forms in front of me in mere milliseconds and roars, “LISTEN TO ME, AND ONLY ME, BOY!” His jaw flares and his teeth seem to grow even longer.  
I start sobbing again. “OK, OK, OK!”  
Venom receeds again and I throw off the bandages as best I can through the stressful tears.  
“Good,” Venom says, bluntly. “Now, open the door.”  
I walk over to the room’s exit and try the handle. It’s locked.  
Venom grumbles. As he does so I can feel something shifting around inside me just under the skin. It feels like a liquid earthworm pulsating inside my flesh. “Alright. Let me.”  
I shriek as my body is taken out of my control. Venom walks me backwards and throws my arm out. I am petrified as my whole arm becomes encased by a black, spider web-like goo that then shoots out in a long stream and attaches to the glass. A myriad of interwebbing black tendrils weave themselves over the glass, sticking to it like glue. Suddenly, that long stream tightens and retracts into my arm, slingshotting me into the glass. I go right through it, fall forward, landing perfectly into a kneeling position - or rather Venom makes me.  
I look up into the horrified face of my primary nurse.  
She looks down at me in horror. “W-what are you doing?” she squeals.  
“Um… I’m feeling better now?” I mumble.  
…

The rest of the day is confusing. I have X-rays, CAT scans, physical exams, and every other kind of test possible done. They found absolutely nothing wrong. The blood tests came back totally normal, the X-rays showed nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was in perfect order and yet it wasn’t. They were baffled by the whole thing.  
Of course, Venom went into hiding. He grumbled in my head something about not being strong enough to take on everyone in the hospital yet. He hasn’t done anything stupid. Yet.  
I actually tell the doctors about my experiences with Venom but they seem to think it was just violent hallucinations and racing thoughts brought on by an allergic reaction to one of my drugs.  
After all my tests come back negative, leaving the doctors thoroughly baffled, they have no choice but to let me go. When Dad comes to pick me up they re-explain everything to him and tell us both that if anything “weird” happens again, to go to the ER.  
Dad takes me straight home and drops me off. He has to go to work but to call him if anything happens. He gives me an awkward dad hug and drives off.  
I walk through the house in a bit of a daze. The whole car ride here I felt kind of off. My whole body feels weird.  
“Venom,” I say out loud. “Are you still there? You haven’t said anything in a while. What are you doing?”  
“There was no need to speak. I needed to finish some things.”  
“What does that mean?”  
Our body was insufficient. I made some last minute alterations I think you’ll find interesting.”  
When I don’t immediately react Venom snarls. “Just look in a mirror.”  
I walk upstairs to my room and, on the way, notice my clothes hanging off me a little bit. I feel a little lighter on my feet.  
Once in my room I go in front of my floor mirror. Immediately I notice something is different.  
I notice my face is thinner and leaner. I touch my face. Not an ounce of fat.  
“Huh,” is the only thing my blown mind can articulate.  
“You watching?” Venom asks with a devilish hint to his voice.  
“Um, yes?”  
With that dozens tendrils shoot out from my back, little hands springing from the tips. They, all at once, rip away every article of clothing from my body before tossing the shredded fabric away like confetti.  
I gasp as morning air hits me and at the fact I was just exposed so suddenly in Such a violent manner.  
Then I actually see myself in the mirror and can only stare.  
My entire life I have suffered from emotional eating and have never been better than “chunky’ and overweight. I have never been an athletic type and have rarely if ever gone to a gym. Now the body my face is attached to looks nothing like the body I fell asleep with yesterday.  
I'm lean, powerful, every inch of me bulging with muscle as though I weight lift every day.  
“There is no way…”  
I raise an arm and flex and am shocked at the size of my bicep. With the new body shape and the scruff on my face from not shaving yet, I look almost like a completely different person.  
“This body fixes up nice,” Venom says. “I am pleased with my own work.”  
“How?” I murmur.  
“Just a little ability we Symbiotes have. You’ll never have to work out again.”  
“Is that what your species is called?”  
“No shit” Venom mutters.  
A tendril curls up from my shoulder and then makes a downwards motion towards my crotch. “What is that and what does it do?” Venom asks bluntly.  
“My dick?”  
“And the other things.”  
How does this thing with a surprisingly decent vocabulary also have the capacity to act like a child?  
I awkwardly give him a rundown of “the birds and the bees.” Venom listens, his deep voice humming with understanding.  
“Ah. Sexual reproduction. I have not had the pleasure of being in a host with such abilities. I have heard of this though.”  
His head forms and looks over my shoulder. His sharp teeth are somehow less frightening now as his face is in a more benignly puzzled expression than anger or rage. It tilts to the side like a dog.  
“These are the largest genitals I have ever seen on a species.”  
“I have heard Humans have the largest junk and the highest sex drive.”  
“Yes, I can see that. The hormones that run through your body are enough to drown me.” His face then pulls back into a wide grin, wet teeth and maw glinting. “Let’s have some fun!” He says with his tongue flipping like a serpent.  
“Venom, what are -”

Without warning, thin black tendrils sprout from my stomach and writhe like long thin snakes. I shriek with surprise and end up falling backwards onto the hardwood floor.  
The tendrils move with an almost liquid-like consistency. I can’t help but think of the Alien and the Xenomorphs that explode from people’s chests. However, Venom’s tendrils don't hurt, they just sort of tingle.  
“What the everloving hell-fuck are you doing?” I demand as a few of the tendrils move down my stomach and start exploring my genitals.  
My arms suddenly move of their own accord, snapping up above my head. They pin themselves to the floor. I feel more of the slimy substance seep out of my wrists. I pull at my arms but Venom has thoroughly glued me to the floor with his Symbiote form and, as such, I am unable to move them.  
“What- what are you doing?” I demand, my voice shaking.  
I start to pull my legs up, not liking being stretched out naked on the floor, but two of the tentacles wrap quickly around my ankles and then bond themselves to the floor. I pull uselessly, making a little whine of fear.  
“I’m simply exploring what’s mine!” Venom purrs.  
A larger mass of the black substance emerges from my chest, rises above me, then curls downward toward my face. Venom’s face forms and grins down at me.  
“Why so fearful?” He says, though he knows EXACTLY why I’m distressed.  
Venom’s tongue snakes out of his terrifying mouth and slithers up my cheek.  
“Gha!” I yell, tilting my head the way I would if I were being licked by a dog, though, there’s no escaping a creature that’s coming out of my own body. “The hell?!”  
“Your skin has such a pleasant taste…” Venom muses as he drags his tongue across my face. It slides up my temple, across my forehead, and then down the other side of my face. I have my eyes squeezed shut, my face all scrunched up.  
At the same time, I feel other tendrils emerge from my body and start exploring their way across my bare skin, making me shiver.  
Venom’s tongue slides across my face to my lips. I tighten them, getting a chuckle from Venom.  
Despite my best efforts to keep it out, the tip of Venom’s tongue snakes its way between my lips and the whole thing starts sliding into my mouth.  
I instinctively bite down in self defense but it keeps coming, Venom not even phased by my retaliation. I moan around it, feeling it exploring my mouth, toying with my own tongue and sliding across my teeth.  
Venom pushes in farther, toward the back of my mouth. There’s nothing I can do as it slides its way down my throat. It keeps coming, growing thicker in my mouth, stretching my throat as it slides deeper into me.  
SOMEHOW I’m not gagging; I think he’s temporarily switched off my uvula or something.  
Venom pulls his tongue out of my mouth just as his eyes are starting to roll back in my head, my body weakening from lack of air. I cough and gasp as Venom’s tongue snakes around my neck, embracing it wetly.  
“Sorry about that,” Venom says, not sounding that sorry at all.  
Now that I can actually breathe again I’m made sharply aware, again, of the other tendrils on my body. One has found a nipple and teases at it almost gently. Others are snaking their way up and down the inside of my thighs, across my belly, and along my arms, seeking out the softest and most sensitive skin.  
My core tightens in shock as one of the tendrils brushes against my cock, semi hard.  
Venom laughs. “Mm, yes, that feels good, doesn’t it?”  
“Uh huh,” I mumble. I can’t fucking believe that I’m actually kind of turned on by this shit.  
Venom’s tongue slides down my collarbone and to my other nipple, toying with it and leaving slime across my chest as more tendrils move toward my cock. They converge, wrapping around it, embracing my length and my balls, making my breath catch in my throat. The mass around my cock and balls undulates, and the touch feels good. While this should be entirely too fucked up for me to become aroused, I still do.  
This monster is going to have my way with me, I realize.  
I pull at my limbs weakly, but the alien's hold is still strong. My legs are bent and my feet are flat against the floor, pinned there by the appendages around my ankles. My back is flat against the cold floor.  
As I feel the black mass around my groin explore further between my legs, a thin arm of it slithering between my cheeks, my muscles tighten and I buck suddenly, arching my back and lifting my hips away from the floor in an attempt to escape the touch.  
The mass around my cock squeezes me lightly, pulling on it and rippling against me.  
Though I hold my hips away from the ground, it doesn’t stop the tendril from snaking deeper. It probes at my hole, shaping itself around it, teasing and pushing lightly.  
I look around, desperately, as Venom’s tongue slides deeper into my throat.  
The tendril against my hole is suddenly done exploring gently. It thickens and pushes into me. Somehow, I managed to release a muffled scream around the tongue invading my throat as the other appendage forced its way into my ass, stretching me wide around it. It floods into me, crawling along my inner walls, pushing in deep and making me arch my back harder.  
I’m completely unprepared for this.  
The stretch of the insertion sends fire along my nerves.  
“Mmmm, interesting. Such pain…” Venom muses.  
Some part of him brushes against my prostate and a burst of pleasure breaks through the pain, briefly.  
“But such pleasure, too!” He says with a devilish glee.  
Venom’s tongue pulls out of my mouth and I take in a gasp of air. At the same time, the thing in my ass presses hard into my prostate again and I let my lungful of air out in a helpless moan.  
The tendrils on my body all move suddenly and I find myself flipped over onto my stomach. My arms are still pinned above my head and my legs are forced straight and pinned down to the floor again.  
I twist my head to the side and look over my shoulder as black masses rise and writhe above me.  
The appendage in my ass seems to solidify, thickening at the same time, sending another shock through my body, and I let out a scream as it stretches me wider.  
Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a thick, curved tendril originating from my thighs and curving down toward my ass. The tendril tenses suddenly and slams forward, ramming its length into my ass and I let out another scream.  
I can feel it squirming its way deeper into my body, filling me and moving inside me, but in a completely different way from how I felt the creature inside me before it started fucking me.  
The other tendrils are still working at my cock, and every few thrusts, the thing in my ass twists in a way that pushes hard into my prostate, sending small shocks of pleasure through my body. I shudder reflexively.  
“Mmmm, yes, I like that!” Venom cooes.  
The harsh pounding stops suddenly, and I let out a shaking breath.  
The appendage in my ass stops thrusting. Only the part already inside me moves, curling and wiggling against my sensitive nerves.  
I moan around the thick tongue in my mouth.  
The black tendrils now focus on stimulating my cock and prostate. My cock and balls are completely enveloped by Venom, who pulses and moves against me, finding my most sensitive spots, quickly pinpointing exactly what makes me moan.  
I take in a gasp as I feel myself grow hard within Venom’s embrace.  
Oh no. No fucking way. I’m not going to cum with some weird, alien slime creature jerking me off and crawling its way up my ass! I may be a little on edge, frustrated and wanting from too long without a partner, too long with nothing but my own hand to satisfy me, but I’m not that desperate!  
I shake my head and struggle a little.  
“Oh, please, we both know you want this!” Venom says.  
He presses hard into my prostate again, sending another shockwave of pleasure through my body.  
Ok, he’s right, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying this on some level.  
Venom works me until I’m panting.  
The mass around my cock pulls on me, squeezes me, and vibrates around me. It massages my balls with just the right amount of pressure and it presses into my prostate with a steady rhythm, pushing bursts of pleasure straight to my brain.  
With my cock hard and growing harder and harder, Venom’s fondling all my most sensitive parts are only feeling better and better.  
I start making some pretty disgusting noises but don't have the self-control to stop myself. Venom’s voice growls with pleasure, seemingly aroused by my voice, lost in eroticism. The movement in my ass quickens, sending more and more shocks of pleasure through my body.  
I gasp and pant and whine against the floor between wanton moans and wails.  
I feel a shuddering feeling start building in me, concentrating in my core, pooling in my groin. I squeeze my eyes shut and struggle weakly against the tendrils holding me down to the floor as I prepare myself for the orgasm I know is coming.  
The blackness around and inside of me seems to swell suddenly, squeezing my throbbing cock and pressing into my prostate hard enough to make my vision black out.  
I finally tumble over the edge and my whole body tightens and shudders as a tidal wave of pleasure washes over me. I can hear nothing but my own strangled scream as I cum hard, pulse after pulse of movement around and in me carrying me through it. It goes on and on, washing any other thought and feeling out of my mind and body as the pleasure takes over everything.  
When it finally fades, I collapse on the floor with one last shuddering breath, my muscles trembling weakly.  
I move my hands slowly and push my torso up from the ground. I look down at himself to see I’m covered in sweat and about a gallon of my own semen.  
“That was quite an exhilarating experience, thank you Eddie!” Venom says with a little sigh, quite a bit of pride in his voice.  
I flop down on my bed, spent and exhausted. “Uh huh,” I mumble.  
My eyes slowly drift closed with the afterglow.  
...  
I am disoriented as I am awakened by loud and continuous noise. I sit bolt upright as Venom begins to wail inside my head. “Loud noise, loud noise!” He shrieks. He takes control of.my arms and presses my finger into my ears.  
It’s music from Dad’s next door neighbor, some twenty something asshole with no regards for the people around him. He blasts Need Your Heart by Adventure Club from his bluetooth speaker set on his windowsill.  
He ignores the multiple people from every nearby house telling him to turn it down.  
“NO, NO, NO! this will not do!” Venom screams.  
Suddenly I am pulled to the window and Venom’s tendrils shoot out across the short gap between our houses and attach to the neighbor’s windowsill. I swing over, bare feet clinging to the side of the building, and scramble up easily.  
Venom slips us through the open window easily and the neighbor looks up at us, shocked.  
“Your noise irritates me,” Venom says and smashes the man's speaker to bits.  
“Are you fucking crazy?” The neighbor demands.  
He grabs a guitar and goes to bash it over my head but Venom catches it, rips it away, and throws it against the wall where it explodes into billions of splintered shards.  
I suddenly feel Venom ooze from my body and completely envelop me. I am suddenly seeing not through my own eyes but Venom’s. Now I’m the voice in his head.  
Drool waterfalls from Venom’s open maw and his tongue flips in every direction like a cracked out serpent.  
“You shall serve an important purpose, annoying human! Food! I have been waiting for so long! Human food is so disgusting!”  
“Well sorry!” I say as a disembodied voice inside Venom’s cranium.  
The man shrieks in horror as Venom lashes out fast as lightning and grabs the man by his shoulders and lifts him up like a doll.  
Venom’s mouth opens so wide it unhinges like some kind of Amazonian snake. He forces the man’s upper torso into his mouth where his esophagus takes over, sucking the man down fully where it is dissolved down and digested instantaneously.  
Venom smacks his lips with satisfaction.  
He then lets out a long awful belch. From his mouth comes inorganic matter, metal from the man’s belt and jeans and leather boots, and several earrings that all fall to the floor with a tinkle.  
Venom sinks back into my skin, leaving me to stand in abject horror.  
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” I say, shrilly.  
“Living flesh; it’s what we Symbiotes eat,” Venom says flatly.  
“Yeah, but -”  
“But nothing. We’re going back to sleep.”  
He swings us back over and into my room and flops us down on the bed.  
It becomes apparent to me that I’m just laying on top of my sheets completely naked.  
“Hopefully nobody walks in on us,” I mutter.  
“If they do I will just eat them too!” Venom says chipperly.

WILLOW, AN: Woah, Mark, what the hell was that?!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
venoms like a goo monster thing right so that means hed be like a total hentai monster n some shit right? I like that stuff if u dont like it then just don’t read it! Its my chapter that i rote all by myself ok i can do what i want you got to rite all thoise preveus chapters before si give me a break!!!!!!!

WILLOW, AN: IT’S MY STORY TOO MARK! JUST COOL IT!


	7. The New & Amazing Eddie Brock!!! [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has his first day of school with Venom inside him. Hijinx ensue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are 2 sex scenes, they get pretty graphic.

LUCAS, AN: LOL. This chapter, just… LOL!

I stay up watching NCIS until around nine. I make the mistake of choosing the third season where the prospect of turmoil is introduced. It’s depressing how it’s like my life right now; someone dying and people blaming themselves for something they didn’t do and all. I only get through two episodes before calling it quits.  
The next morning I wake up with a start as the alarm clock goes off. Venom reacts badly to the high pitch beep, smashing it with a fist that extends from my chest like Mrs. Incredible.  
“What is the meaning of the noise?” Venom demands.  
“It’s the alarm for school. If I don’t hurry I’ll miss the bus!”  
“I am unaware of this ‘school.’”  
“You'll catch on,” I mutter and get up.  
I look at myself in the mirror, still marveling at my new body. It’s a good thing I already wear shirts a size too large, otherwise I’d be screwed. I go over to my closet and riffle around looking for something I like. Venom keeps chiming in. He sees a muscle-t that I have and insists that he wants that one so “we can show off his masterwork” on my body. I don’t like muscle tees but Venom whines and snarls until I finally concede just to shut him up. Along with that I throw on a red ohio state hoodie, acid wash jeans, and a pair of workboots. I run a comb through my hair and try slicking it back like a 50’s greaser.  
I go to get something to eat, despite not being hungry. Nothing looks appetizing in the slightest. I remember the guy from last night and shudder. I hope that doesn't become a regular thing, I’m really uncomfortable with the thought of killing people.  
I voice this to the Venom and he asks me why killing people is such a big deal to me. I have to explain veganism to him, though half-assedly try to fit the definition for regular food versus living people.  
I grab my bag, catch the bus, and sit next to the Star Lord as I always do.  
Star Lord’s wearing a pink hoodie that he must've borrowed from his sister, camo shorts, mismatched socks - one of hello kitty and the other of black batman logo - and white converse sneakers with purple shoelaces. His beanie has a bunch of dollar store goth pins and he’s wearing heavy eyeshadow and black lipstick with a fresh coat of black nailpolish.  
“Hey, nice hair,” he says.  
“You like it?” I ask.  
“Yeah.”  
He looks at my face critically. Without warning he reaches out and just starts fondling my beard.  
“When did you become a lumberjack?” He asks. “You looked super mangy yesterday.”  
I fumble with my reply. “It gets thicker when it’s longer.”  
“So it filled in overnight?”  
“Yeah, it always does that.”  
“Um.. ok,” Star Lord says, half buying it.  
We get to school and stand around in the cafeteria, waiting for the first bell to ring in twenty minutes.  
Gwen and Scott arrive, driving here in their respective cars.  
Gwen is rocking her usual colors, a purple blouse, black skirt with a purple poodle embroidered into it, knee high white socks, and a purple hair extension ribbon. The only thing that clashes with her outfit, as always, are her pair of bright blue ballet slippers she wears everywhere for some reason.  
Martin is going full hispeter with an oversized brown thrift store sweater that makes him look like a grandpa, brown corduroy bell bottoms, brown loafers, and a grey carhartt stocking cap with a matching sweater around his neck. He’s swapped his regular glasses out for a pair of seventies era tinted ones. He has a mcdonald's cup of coffee in his hand, running the alternative aesthetic.  
“Where do you get all the cool clothes?” I ask. “Like the tinted glasses, you have a prescription for those?”  
“Eh, dad made them.”  
“How?”  
“You’re very pink today, Star Lord,” Scott says abruptly, shooting him a finger gun.  
Star Lord gushes. “You’re very brown today, Scott.”  
Yeah, and I’m very purple, can we just stop? Gwen says, rubbing her temple, visibly frustrated.  
We all cringe. We all kinda forgot about Peter. There’s a moment of awkward silence.  
Venom starts talking in my head asking who everyone is. I don’t answer because that would be weird. Venom gets offended, thinking I’m ignoring him.  
He suddenly takes control of my arm and point, sticking it straight outwards and motions to everyone demanding, “Who. Are. they?”  
“I’ll tell you later,” I mutter.  
“Um, you want us to pull your finger?” Scott asks.  
Gwen just stares at me. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She says. “Do you… do you not get what’s going on here?” She gets flustered and briskly walks over to get breakfast.  
I excuse myself and slip into a hallway where I chew venom out and quickly fill him in on stuff so he’ll stop. I explain how everything he’s doing is weird but he doesn’t seem to get it nor care about human sensibilities.  
This is the thesis statement of today, Venom not giving a shit. He rambles in my head all of the first period, asking questions, making me point at things, making me stop to observe things and just generally being a nuisance. I have to whisper under my breath to pacify him and people stare at me.  
The cheerleader whose locker is next to mine gets offended when I mutter Venom saying, “no, I'm not going to look in her locker,” when she opens it.  
“Get out of my face you fucking schitzo!” She snaps, spraying me in the face with her perfume.  
“Gha!” I yell, stumbling back... Right into one of the biggest guys on the football team. I end up slamming him into the water fountain that drenches the front of him.  
“You little punk!” He bellows.  
Immediately everyone gets out of the way, making a circle, waiting to see how this will play out.  
“You just move here and you think you can tackle me?”  
Yeah, you asshole!” The cheerleader screams. “That’s my fucking boyfreind!”  
She goes to spray me in the face again, but I snatch the can from her hand and crush it. It explodes filling the whole hallway with the scent of lavender. I drop the ruined can and it clatters to the floor.  
I feel rage flowing through me as I stare down the jock. I feel Venom vibrating inside of me.  
“Oooh! This will be interesting Eddie!”  
“You show yourself and I’ll kill you,” I mutter.  
“But I want to beat him up and eat him!”  
“Beat up, yes, eat no. Just let me have the invincibility and the healing powers and stuff, ok?”  
“Alright, fine. Just kill him, please?”  
“No promises.”  
I have been standing there stoic except for my mutterings the whole time.  
The jock shifts uncomfortably. “Um, dude, you gonna do anything? Like, do we call it off or -”  
I lunge at him, screaming, and clock him in the face. He yells and staggers back.  
He then lunges at me but I duck backwards like Neo in The Matrix. The jock keeps coming after me and I keep blocking him, swerving and ducking and even backflipping a couple times. I defend myself with my arm several times and my bones - hard like steel - damage the jock’s knuckles more than me.  
I do a third backflip and then ninja kick him in the chest, sending him flying back. I make a flying leap and land on top of him, knocking the wind from his chest and beating his face until it’s red and bleeding.  
With one mighty punch several teeth go flying and he goes limp. At first I think he’s knocked out but he’s still stirring and muttering but just dazed. He sits up and coughs as he tries regaining his breath.  
“HE’S COUGHING UP BLOOD!” Someone yells.  
“Relax, it’s just the gums bleeding from the teeth,” I say, holding them up.  
“Honey!” The cheerleader squeals running forward. She breaks a heel on one foot and slips in the mouth blood on the other and bashes her face into a nearby table.  
Two more teeth go flying. I pick those up too and rattle them in my hand like dice.  
“Guess you guys can match now. Like the pair of perfect pretty shoes you bought at the mall!”  
Everyone in the crowd starts laughing and clapping.  
“You beat up the biggest guy on the football team?” Someone says. “Nobody ever did that before, not even Peter Parker! He should move over and just let you on the team in hi9s place!”  
“WHAT? PETER IS DEAD! WE’RE HAVING AN ASSEMBLY AS A SCHOOL WIDE WAKE LATER, THE FUNERAL IS NEXT WEEK? ARE ALL OF YOU PEOPLE INSANE?” The crowd goes silent and everyone stares at Gwen who’s shaking with anger and pain, tears rolling down her face. She takes a sharp mucusy gasp. “Fuck. all. Of. you.” She spins around and walks off, hands over her face.  
“What’s her problem?” Someone says. Peter was a pussy anyway, not like Eddie!”  
The whole crowd erupts back into cheers again, their hands clapping like a freight train.  
The teachers finally decide to show up. The one who coaches the football team, Mr. Steve Rodgers, shoves Gwen roughly out of the way as he approaches.  
He’s dressed in a striped black and white shirt, black dress pants, loafers, and has a whistle around his neck for some reason even though it's the middle of the school day. He has a sexy ass beard and quaffed hair and piercing eyes and his teeth sparkle deliciously as he approaches.  
“Eddie! That was amazing!” Mr. Rogers says excitedly. “Would you consider joining the football team?”  
“Well, no, I say.”  
“Well, if you decide to, I guarantee you’re in. There's this guy, everyone calls him Iceman, I let him in only because we were short on people, but he’s as coordinated as an ox. You want in, he’s out in a heartbeat.”  
“What the fuck coach?!” Ice Man, a boy with short quaffed blonde hair, a blue jacket, jeans, a 6ix9ine t-shirt and silver Adidas shoes yells. “I’m right here!”  
“That’s lunch detention for swearing!” Mr. Rogers snaps, jabbing a finger at Ice Man. “Come to my office with your food, and bring your jersey when you come, Eddie will be needing it. You do want in, right? He says to me.  
“Um, yes?”  
“Yeah, bring me the jersey and if you don’t you’ll get suspension.”  
“What the fuck?” Ice Man says, throwing his arms up in frustration.  
“Hey, that’s swearing twice, you get suspension anyway, forget the lunch, just come to my office immediately!” Mr. Rodgers says.  
Iceman breaks down yelling and has to be dragged away by several of his friends to keep him from making a scene.  
Mr. Rogers grabs my wrist and raises it above his head. “Here’s to the new football blood of Marvel Falls High!”  
Everyone claps and cheers again.  
Suddenly, from the crowd, Star Lord runs up to me and throws his arms around me. I tense. “Everybody’s simply in love with you, you’re the real cat’s meow now! You beat up the preps? You do it that badassed-ly? You think I won’t love you forever for that? He suddenly kisses me, full on the mouth. 

AN, LUCAS: OMFLOL!!!! Wasn’t Star Lord like a goth/emo/scene whatever kid or whatever? Wow Mark, doin’ my best here buddy, but you’re making my work very difficult! 

Everyone gasps loudly, and the girls “OOOOOHHHHHH!!!!!”  
Star Lord presses my face to his and rubs a hand down my chest. “Damn, when did you get so muscular?” He breathes. He slips a hand under my shirt.  
Even more gasps and oohs.  
“Um, maybe save that for later, my dudes,” Mr. Rogers says, spreading us apart. “Seriously, he whispers, thought you were like a big homo or whatever, but honestly, for Eddie, I think you’ll be off the hook!”  
Star Lord squies.  
The principle walks up. “Excuse me, what is the meaning of this? Half an hour has gone by with nobody in their classes, do we want to get the state involved?”  
The teachers all chuckle nervously and tell their students to go to their proper rooms.  
On my way, however, Venom decides to take a detour. He takes me to the bathroom and takes the far back stall.  
As soon as the door is closed. Venom’s head materializes next to mine and rubs his face against my jaw.  
“What are you doing?” I Demand.  
“I love violence!” He says. “And what The Lord Of The Stars did to your body... He made hormones rush through your veins and they are utterly intoxicating!”  
I don’t want to admit it, but I did in fact get a boner.  
Venom generates a bunch of tendrils that carefully remove all of my clothing except for my boots. He laps at my neck and generates an arm that squeezes my ass.  
I would tell him not too if I wasn’t so intoxicatingly aroused.  
He reaches with another generated hand and starts stroking my new huge cock and it sends me wild.  
I start breathing hard and gasping. I can’t help it, but if someone walks in it’ll be a disaster. I mumble this breathily to Venom who doesn’t get it but decides to help by gagging me with a tendril. He seems to enjoy it when I inadvertently bite down, that seems to excite him in a BDSM way.  
Tendrils rubs my abs, play with my balls, toy with my nipples and caress my neck. That hand on my ass gropes hard and plays with my cheeks. I go to move my hands but Venom shoots a web from both that connects them to the stall door and holds them there like glue. He works my meat so well, stroking the shaft just right and playing with the head and even exploring the urethra tip a little.  
I finally can’t take it anymore when the hand on my ass works the first three fingers into my hole. As soon as they hit the prostate I'm done and shoot my load all over the door. Jet after jet after jet, thick and sticky and milky, drenching the door and rolling down ever so slowly with the consistency of shampoo.  
Venom shudders before contracting back into my body allowing me to fall back onto the toilet, breathing heavily, my muscles turned to jelly.  
Once recovering I quickly exit the stall before anyone can notice me.  
“Ok, so I admit,” I say to Venom while walking to my next class, “you’re a pretty useful little dude!”  
“Eddie, I can assure you that I am anything but little!”  
We both laugh.

WILLOW, AN: ok, so this piece of sub-literature tripe was written 100% by Mark. It wasn’t enough for a full chapter though so everything past this point is me filling in the gaps. You’re welcome. Flame Mark in the comments, I want his asshole to bleed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Look willow thiz is my story too ok eddie’s my boi you get gwen and thats it ok?!!?!? I know what i want and im gonna get it ans luccas is on mu side so there!!!! And if anythings sublit its ur shitty drama nobody likes or cares about!!!!! I thouyght yoiu wre ma frend! Ok everybody flame the fucking comments and destroy willow kay! Show her whose boss an stufff!

WILLOW, AN: THIS IS A JOINT EFFORT YOU ASS!

LUCAS, AN: this is fucking hilarious you guys! Come on Willow, just give into the fact that Eddie and Gwen are possession-sue self inserts and stop treating this like high art.

WILLOW, AN: it was fine before Mark messed it all up! I’m trying to make something good, dammit! And Gwen is a fully realized character, ok?

LUCAS, AN: Just keep telling yourself that. Alright, enough with the post-editing ok, this is a story, not a private messenger chat or whatever, you keep arguing in this Google Doc and I’ll delete it. Back to the fucking story.

When Venom continues to ramble I stop myself in the empty hallway and whisper to him, very annoyed.  
“Look, when we get to class, if there’s anything you want me to clarify or explain to you, just write it down in my notebook. You can have my left hand, I assume you can be ambidextrous?”  
“Work fluently with both hands? Yes. I am a highly advanced alien being, that is within my power. But… um… I can’t write.”  
“Of course you can't,” I mutter. “Just draw pictures then, ok?”  
“I can do that.”  
“Good, you can borrow that hand for however long you need, alright? But I need the day to concentrate, it’s my junior year, I'm almost done with high school, I need my grades to be on an even keel, alright?”  
“Alright,” Venom grumbles.  
As I go through the rest of my day, doing schoolwork and whatnot while Venom fills my notebook with surprisingly well done artwork, it occurs to me how the whole atmosphere of the school has changed. That little spat in the hallway must’ve been a short distraction from the horror that has befallen our school. Two kids that used to go here just... gone.  
It’s no longer the happy place it’d been when I’d first arrived. Now it seems stark and lifeless. The windows that show the countryside in such detail only remind me how gray it is outside. The grey skies and misty, soupy air is no longer artistically beautiful, now it’s claustrophobic and depressing.  
The whole school is gossiping about the attacks. It’s stunning how hard people are taking it. A lot of people seem super affected, but then again, that’s to be expected considering this is such a smallish town. Everyone talks about it at all times of the day. I really wish they wouldn’t.  
At lunch, the mood is positively revolting. The lights in the cafeteria seem starker than they did before, sucking the color and joy out of everything. The food has become tasteless and the people around become distant ghosts.  
The rainy, misty drizzle has returned to Marvel Falls. Our wide window only reminds us of that fact. It’s like the goodness has been drained from everything.  
Gwen and I sit together, momentarily silent. She seems so distant and glum and so am I.  
We both look up as Scott comes over. “So, I just witnessed the weirdest and worst thing,” he says as he sits down with his lunch.  
“Hmmm?” Gwen says, melancholy.  
“Yeah. the West End Bathroom?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Well, the janitor was in there. I guess someone found the far stall door absolutely covered in jizz.”  
Gwen ‘s face contorts in disgust. “Really?”  
“Yeah. it was literally dripping on the floor in a puddle, somebody must’ve had one hell of a nut.”  
Gwen gags. “That is fucking disgusting!”  
“I know, right?”  
My stomach twists with guilt and embarrassment. That was pretty shitty of me to do, honestly.  
“Why is this a bad thing?” Venom asks. “Was the passion not exquisite?”  
“We’ll talk later,” I say in a barely audible whisper.  
Someone walks up to our table. Star lord stands awkwardly, bending the styrofoam lunch tray between his hands.  
“So… I… I just wanted to tell all of you I'm sorry. For everything that happened.”  
He goes to leave but I ask him to sit down. The others don't say anything against it. Star lord sits next to me.  
We all pick at our food before I speak. “Hey, Gwen, I’m really sorry, you know, about what happened earlier. You know, how Scott and I acted this morning and the whole hallway thing.”  
“No, it’s fine,” she says, waving passively.  
“No, it’s not fine,” I say. “That was shitty, we, especially I, actively ignored Peter. But, like, what can we do? I don’t know how exactly to process any of this!”  
Gwen nods. “Yeah, I know; clearly.” She sighs. “I knew her, Penny Parker. She used to sit right next to me in chemistry. I can’t believe she’s really gone.”  
“It’s always the nice ones that get eaten, it seems,” Scott says.  
Gwen chooses to ignore that bad joke when she sees the sincere look of pain on Scott’s face.  
“You know, they still haven’t caught the animal,” Star Lord says. “Do you think it might attack again?”  
“God, I hope not,” I say. The thought of another attack made my insides cramp. Good thing I wasn’t all that hungry to begin with, I’m not sure my stomach could have handled it.  
Gwen looks over at me with my notebook open, Venom still scribbling while I eat. I forgot he was still doing that.  
“Wha…?” She mumbles. “How are you doing that?”  
I shrug. “Ambidextrous. This is how I vent, you know?”  
She stares at the paper as the drawing takes shape.  
“Wait, that’s the bathroom, is that a guy in a stall?”  
I actually wasn’t paying attention to the picture but in horror, I see that the venom is doing a rough sketch of our masturbation session in the bathroom. He is about to put details on my face! Before the pencil can touch the figure’s face I slam the book shutt and yank control back from Venom.  
“Hey!” He snarls in my head and I dig my nails into the other hand. The jab of pain seems to get through to him to be quiet.  
“Yeah, yeah, I vent by drawing and I was annoyed with that guy, you know, being so nasty!”  
Gwen raises an eyebrow but decides not to pursue it further, to my delight.  
After a few more quiet minutes she finally says, “I can’t be here.”  
“Like, at the table?” Scott asks.  
“You can have a star lord’s table,” Star Lord offers, “if you want to be alone -”  
“No, I mean here in school,” Gwen says. “It’s so depressing and everyone is gossiping about the murders… I just can’t. She forces a smile. “You know what? We need a day out, just for us, away from all this.”  
“You mean this weekend?” I ask.  
“I’m thinking more like tomorrow.”  
“It’s a school day.”  
“Well no shit. Is one day really going to kill you?”  
I say nothing.  
Scott looks at me, suddenly appalled. “You’ve never skipped before, have you?”  
“No,” I reply earnestly.  
Scott sighs. “Geeze, we’re only young once.”  
Gwen looks around to the others. “You guys in?”  
“Even me?” Star lord says, motioning to himself.  
Gwen nods. “Yeah. A friend of Eddie's is a friend of mine in my book. And you did try and help us out back at the house.”  
“I didn’t do much.”  
She chuckles a little. “It’s the thought that counts.” Gwen looks back to me. “Well?”  
After some deliberation I finally say, “ok, let’s do it!”  
We all high five.  
“We just might be able to breathe some life back into our group yet!” Scott says.  
“Yeah, maybe,” Gwen says, quickly wiping a tear from her eye, presumably so we don’t notice.  
The bell rings and I dump my tray.  
...  
The rest of the day is bizarre for me. The only person that doesn’t seem affected by the death is Mary Jane, though I’ve come to realize she’s pretty heartless.  
Now that I’m a strong fighter, apparently on the football team, she is interested again. She comments that I look even more handsome than before. She scolds me for saying I don’t work out, what with how buff I am. She reaches out, unzips my hoodie and presses a hand to my chest, feeling my abs through my shirt in the weirdest and most disconcerting way.  
“Wow,” she breathes.  
I chuckle uncomfortably and zip my hoodie back up, carefully removing her hand from my body.  
Emma’s crew seem to want to become my disciples - as though I'm a higher being - what with how they pander to me. I find it funny at first, but it rapidly gets irritating.  
“You know, I don’t think I'm worth all this pandering,”' I say.  
“What? No!” The girls say. “You’re the greatest!”  
The others believe that I'm crazy for saying such a thing. I try to get away from them at every chance, but they escort me everywhere. It isn’t until I’m approached by a familiar and unwelcome figure that I finally get relief from the hoard and they back off.  
As I swap things in my locker Quick Silver, of all people, approaches. “Hi, Eddie,” He says. The look on his face is quite smarmy, almost charming.  
“Can I help you?” I ask.  
“Yeah, I just wanted to talk. Is that ok?”  
“Make it quick, time’s a tickin’.”  
“Quick is my name, figuratively and literally.”  
“Well, go on,” I say.  
“That guy, Peter Quill -”  
“Star Lord, I correct him.”  
“‘Star Lord…’ are you two dating?” He has suddenly gotten very serious.  
“No, we’re not. What makes you say that?”  
“You two were open mouth kissing in front of everyone.”  
“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” I mutter.  
“So... no significant other? You're wide open?”  
“Why do you care?”  
“You think you’re the only bisexual guy in this school?”  
“First, I’m gay, and second, you’re bi? And third, why are you suddenly interested?”  
“Hey, I can’t help but find you a little tantalizing now, you know? I never really realized how hot you are. It’s like yesterday you were a schlub and now you’re a god.”  
“It’s almost like that, isn’t it?” I mutter through nervously gritted teeth.  
“Would you like to escort me to a dinner at some point in the future?” Quick Silver asks. “Just you and me. I’ll buy it. Tonight even, if you want to split. I kind of do, the deadbeats here are getting on my nerves.”  
Mary Jane is still hovering by. Her eyes are wide and she shakes her head no and drags a finger over her throat, rolls her eyes back, and sticks her tongue out.  
I look back at Quick Silver.  
“Well, uh…”  
I look back at Mary Jane and she gives a little wave and shakes her head and makes shushing motions. I shake my hand at her and she sighs deeply and rolls her eyes.  
“Certainly not tonight, really not in the mood, but maybe in the future sometime, I’ll keep you posted on that. Here, I'll even write a memo,” I say pulling out my phone and adding it to my notes.  
Quick Silver kindly blocks me from view so the teachers don’t have a cow.  
“Hey, thanks,” he says. He walks off and Mary Jane glares daggers before leaving for class.  
A girl comes up to me, excited. “Oh my God!” She says.  
“What?” I ask.  
“You talked to him?”  
Who, Quick Silver?” I ask.  
“YES!” She says. “He is literally the hunkiest guy I have ever seen in my life. He never talks - EVER! to ANYONE! He talked to you! What did he say?”  
Her words are so exciting that they glom together in one big hyper sentence.  
“He said I was attractive.”  
“OH MY GOD GIRL - I MEAN GUY!” She squeals and hugs me. “I am so happy for you! I mean I’m jealous as fuck, but happy for you!”  
“Um, thanks?”  
“Oooh! I'm spreading the good word about you talking to Quick Silver!”  
I stare at her. “I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU!”  
Mary Jane meets up with me later and scolds me for “leading her brother on” and I ignore her. By the end of the scolding she seems to have gotten over it though, or at least buries her true emotions under a truckload of insincerity. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Hey willow i made this right after you complaynwed i was too short but decoded to save it fpr later when i saw you were gonna finish the whole thing by yourself and i was lazy. But now im stickin it t in ther any way because FUCY YOU!!!!!11!! 

When I wake up in the middle of the night, I am taken off guard by the sight of Venom forming outside my body, his head suspended by a thick stalk, several tendrils out, seemingly exploring me.  
“What are you doing?” I say, groggily.  
“Your pheromone levels were rising,” Venom says. “I sensed many thoughts of reproduction. They were in your thoughts and your reproductive organs began to engorge.”  
It takes me a moment; “Oh, I mumble. Was I having a sex dream?” I honestly don’t know.  
Venom manages to shrug despite having no shoulders. Then, his face contorts into a look of mischievousness. One of the extended tendrils reaches down and literally oozes through my sleep pants.  
“Woah, wait what -”  
the tendril gently entwines around my cock - semi hard from that apparent sex dream. Venom gives it a little rub and I feel the good sensation of being touched.  
I feel a shudder go through me that makes me gasp. It’s the feeling of Venom’s joy, his excitement. It’s like an orgasm that takes place throughout my whole body, rippling through like a ripple in a pond.  
I gasp. “What was that?” I say.  
“Your pleasure does that to me and mine does that to you,” Venom notes. “We please each other…” Venom makes eye contact with me and grins, long teeth glinting in the dim light given off by my digital clock. His face gets close to me. “Do you want this?”  
“What do you mean?” I say. I have an idea where this is going and my stomach twists at the thought.  
Venom chuckles. “The racing of your heartbeat and the release of hormones says it all. You know what I plan to do and like it.”  
I can’t say no.  
The control of my body is suddenly overridden by Venom who slides my pants down and kicks them across the room and pulls off my tank top, throwing it away in a ball.  
My breathing is elevated. I wonder where he’s going to take this.  
Venom’s face melts into my body and reforms at my lower abdomen. A tendril sprouts from my groin region and begins to fondle my balls while the first still gives my cock a slow stroke to keep it up.  
Venom’s pulsating pleasure flattens me against the bed in a spread eagle pose as my muscles burn with pleasure.  
Venom’s face stretches out and begins a long drooling lick up one of my newly muscled pecs, up to my right pit. I feel him licking me and nuzzling the tender flesh with his face. Several tendrils sprout next to the main stalk the head is attached to and, in the form of miniature hands, begin to caress my pecs.  
“You are so soft,” Venom says as he moves on and gives attention to my second pit. He seems to take in the complete feeling of me, coveting my body.  
The hands come to my nipples and the fingers melt away. He begins to tug at them, the tendrils now tipped with little mouths that suckle them in an erotic fashion, lapping and lightly nibbling and pulling.  
Venom’s pleasure pulsates through me stronger.  
“You are beautiful in every way, Eddie,” Venom says.  
His head comes up and rests by my face. His face comes up in front of mine and our eyes meet. Venom’s grin is still there, but the expression in his eyes is one of solemness. It is gentle, loving, caring. Lustful.  
He lowers his face to mine and I accept him as he opens his mouth and works his tongue past my lips and into my mouth where our tongues intertwine. Venom lets out a low growl of affection. He morphs makeshift lips to make up for his usual lack of lips and we begin to legitimately make out.  
More tendrils work my lower half, wrapping around my legs and slowly working the skin in gentle rolling and affectionate motions. I feel Venom oozing outwards around my feet, the feeling of a million suckling kisses. I wiggle my toes, enjoying the feeling.  
“You have a fetsih as well, Eddie,” Venom notes. “You like men’s feet.”  
“Guilty as charged,” I breathe between kisses.  
“I like your feet,” Venom says. “I like everything about you.” His eyes look so solemn and serious. “I was so lucky to have you, Eddie. And… I am sorry for everything that happened between us.”  
“It's in the past,” I whisper, “People, and alien goo monsters change.”  
“I just want to make you happy, Eddie,” Venom says.  
“You keep touching me like this and mission accomplished,” I breathe.  
Venom has picked up the pace on his working of my cock and I can feel the orgasm begin to build.  
“Venom,” I breathe his name over and over as he continues to increase his jacking. The feeling of him all over, fondling my balls, tweaking my nipples, exploring my feet and lapping my pits, giving attention to every bit of me, has led to the best orgasm of my life.  
I black out and see stars as jet after jet of cum sprays up from my rock hard cock and comes down to rest over my chest. Venom’s pleasure goes through the roof, paralyzing me with pure bliss that actually causes me to orgasm a second time after the first, though not as powerful.  
I lay in bed, naked and sticky, breathless and tired, spent and feeling as though all of it was worth it. Venom ‘s face laps me clean of my seed and comments on the taste.  
Once satisfied, the tendrils all sink into my skin and Venom gives me one last kiss before his face recedes back into my body.  
I flip the covers back over my naked body and the two of us quickly drift off back to sleep.

LUCAS, AN: Fuck you for making me edit that, Mark.

WILLOW, AN: No comment.


	8. Going Shopping And Almost Dying Horribly [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going Shopping And Almost Dying Horribly

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Yay i finally get to rite a hole chapter without williw gettin in da way!!!! Thanks luxas fir edditin alla this for us!!!!!! An i dont needtoworryabout willow or anyting me an her and lucad talked it all out an were all good now so well try nota fight asbout yings anymore!!!!1!! Itz gonaa be like a madlibs story an were gonna trytp be more critical an help eachother out with oir strengths and weeknessess. Enjoy thge chapter!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!1!

I ended up going to bed at five-without setting the alarm for tomorrow - just because I couldn’t stand the thought of being awake any longer, the pain of losing Peter so strong and potent and all consuming and stuff like that.  
The next morning, I woke at nine. School was already in session. I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just wanted to be out of this house, out of this town.  
Since I'm going out on the town today I decided to pick out my outfit a little bit more carefully than yesterday where I simply didn’t care. I put on a button down white shirt, well cared for black jeans, red crew cut socks, my nicest high tops, a leather jacket and a black stocking cap since it's cold out.  
It’s a sad breakfast, All the cereal Dad has are shredded wheat and plain Corn Flakes and Cheerios. I can’t stand cereals like that. There were eggs in the refrigerator, I could have made one of those. Of course I had never cooked before in my life-there was no need to consider Mom’s line of work so unless I wanted to poison myself accidentally that was out. I ended up eating a bowl of ramen noodles. Yippee.  
I drove over to Gwen’s house. She’d given me her address. We were taking my truck because although it looks like garbage, it had far more space in it than anyone else’s and besides, Dad wouldn’t notice it missing. With a whole day devoted to swiping credit cards like madman, we were going to need it.  
I had never seen Gwen’s house before and was shocked as I pulled up. I had always envisioned a small house with peeling paint, a chain link fence, several guard dogs and perhaps a TV or stereo blaring far too loudly. What I hadn’t expected was a mansion. It must’ve been four stories tall. Expensive trim, wrap around porch, brick built, very spendthrift. The yard was practically a golf course, the fountain the size of a swimming pool, the mythical creatures spurting water from their mouths looked like something you would find in Rome.  
I rang the doorbell and heard a loud ring like a gong from the inside. The door opened. It was a young Mexican woman. “Yes?” She said. Her voice was clear, yet very accented.  
“I’m here to see Gwen,” I said.  
“It’s ok Mia!” I heard Gwen say it from the inside.  
Mia moved out of the way and Gwen appeared in the doorway.  
Gwen is dressed in a designer top, black with a zigzagging purple stripe going through it like something Charlie Brown would wear, a purple skirt, black leggings, purple stilettos, three pairs of silver earrings, and several purple bows in her shortish bleach blonde hair.  
“That will be all” Gwen said to Mia. She scampered down the steps, towing me along.  
“You live here?” I said, amazed.  
“Well no shit!” Gwen says, rolling her eyes with a grin.  
“How?” I asked.  
“My stepfather is a stockbroker,” Gwen said. “Hits it big every time.”  
It amazed me that Gwen could, or more importantly, would dress and act so normally when she was actually rich.  
“Your car’s really roomy,” Gwen said. She was awfully perky today.  
“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” I said.  
“What, going shopping? No, skipping school.”  
Gwen shook her head. “Look, it’s nothing, ok? As far as I know we don’t have anything terribly important going on today. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing this every day. You need to chill, live a little.”  
We pick up Scott after we leave Gwen’s house.  
He wakes up dressed like a mid 2000’s goth-punk kid. A black tank top with a metallic hoodie thrown on, partially unzipped, ufo pants with chains and useless straps and stuff all over, black heelys shoes, and a black beanie with jack skellington on it.  
“Should I ask why?” I ask as he gets in.  
“Eh, I felt like it,” Scott says, simply, making me roll my eyes.  
We finally pick up Star lord. He sits out in the freezing cold in a lawn chair, scrolling through his notifications when we pull up.  
He’s wearing a bright orange winter coat with cream colored fake fur lining that makes him look like an orange cream-sickle, black leather boots with orange laces, white jeans with rips in the knees, black themed makeup and an orange beanie.  
“Why so orange?” I ask. “It’s not hunting season or anything is it?”  
“It’s a statement on our current president in office. Orange is a shameful color, it's to make everyone realize the true shame we should feel of our governmental system that doesn’t serve the people.”  
“Wow, that’s so deep!” I say, gasping at his intellectuality and his deep thoughts.  
Gwen rubs her temples. “Yeah, deep, very deep, can we go please?”  
It’s a horribly long drive into the city. I’m ready to die of boredom by the time we arrive. there are many nice shops. Certainly not the flashy malls you’d find back home, but acceptable sized places. We stop at one. It’s some reasonably big woman’s dress shop.  
We all find some very nice outfits there.  
Gwen, I find, is very choosy of her clothes. She has this thing for purple I guess. All of her outfits have to be a coordination of black and purple. I ask her about her obsession.  
“Ok, you want to know why?” she asks.  
She picks out some nice dresses of different colors and makes me watch her model them. I am horrified. It’s like a real version of that old song about Jenny Jenkins. Every color; blue, red, green and orange were so out of character and not Gwen. I made - no, forced - her to try on a pink dress at one point. If Barbie ever became a Goth, she would look something like Gwen does. I’m not even able to laugh. It’s so awful. I can’t imagine a worse fate than being only able to wear one or two colors, but Gwen doesn’t seem to mind all that much.  
While Gwen is limited, I on the other hand, look good in anything, or so the others insistently tell me. I model every outfit I take interest in and a little more than half Gwen insists I buy them.  
“I’m a rainbow personality I guess,” I say and we all laugh.  
Scott crosses his arms and looks glum. “I prefer thrift stores, they have more of the clothes I like.”  
“You mean old people cardigans and shit?” I ask.  
“Yes, exactly! Old people's stuff is the best, better than these new trends! But, since I’m here…” He throws a few outfits and stuff in his bag.  
Star Lord looks at a bunch of stuff but doesn’t try anything on. I ask him why and he admits he doesn’t have much money to play around with.  
Gwen scoffs and says that she can pay for whatever. She has enough money that she could make a downpayment on a house and barely make a dent in her wealth. She tells Star Lord to go nuts and he indeed does, buying the most absurd outfits I've ever seen, though he models some for us and a lot of them do manage to look ok on him.  
As we’re ready to leave the shop, I notice something out of the corner of my eye. It’s a man in a tracksuit. The grey hoodie and sweatpants are the only features I can identify. He has the hood up, the drawstring pulled tight. He seems to be watching me. I convince the others to leave a little early.  
We leave the shop and go on to the next and since we don’t see the weird guy follow, we assumed we had been mistaken.  
We’ve dropped a lot of money and are overloaded with bags by the time lunch rolls around. We’ve only gone to three shops! We load the trunk of my truck with our purchases and stop at a nice little café with tables outside that looked out toward the ocean.  
It’s a perfect day out, not a cloud in the sky. That’s a rare treasure here I’ve found. Everyone in the city seems to be taking advantage of the nice weather. There are bicycles speeding past, women carrying large bags, guys in fancy cars on the streets trying to impress each other by revving the engines. Young women giggle as cute guys cat called them from their rides. The sun actually felt warm on the skin. Unfortunately, it was windy, and still awfully cold due to that fact.  
“So…” Gwen said as she sips a mocha. “Are you still all in a flutter?”  
I grin. “Of course not, this has been a great day!”  
“It’s not over,” Scott warned me. “You’ll be a wrung out dish by the time we’re through at midnight.”  
“Are we really going to stay out that long?” I ask. “Why not?” Gwen asks. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and meet some interesting men.”  
“Yes, I like this idea, let's stay out and find many, many men!” Venom says in my head.  
“Well, maybe you will, I'm banking on a woman though,” Scott says. “Sorry to be the straight man here.”  
“Ugh, no hetero!” Star Lord says jokingly and we all chuckle.  
Gwen gets a weird look on her face.  
“Is something wrong?” I ask.  
Gwen peers around my head. “There’s somebody watching you,” she says.  
I turn. sure enough, a ways away, there stands the same man, leaning against a light pole. He is definitely looking at me with a fixed stare, I can tell. It’s creepy that he’s watching me to begin with, but even worse since I can't see his face.  
“What’s his deal?” Gwen says.  
I gulp. “He was in that last store with us,” I say.  
“That’s the same guy?”  
I nodded.  
“Hmm, well, let’s go on, and if he follows us, I vote we mace him.”  
“You carry mace?” I ask, laughing.  
Gwen doesn’t look the slightest bit amused. She pulls a large can from her purse. My eyes widen.  
“My god, you really do!”  
She rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding? What with the neanderthals who exist around us, it would be stupid not to.”  
We all get up hastily from the table and clear out and drive around to try and lose the guy until we find a video shop. It’s been a good long time and there are no cars following us, so we decide to check it out.  
The place is a huge open space with wide shelves containing everything from second hand VHS tapes to DVDs to Blu- ray. Most of the shelves were dedicated to brand new DVDs. A large corner is for video games and stuff like that.  
We browse through the collections.  
“Hey, what do you think of these?” Star Lord asks, shoving a pile of movies into my hands. I riffle through them. They’re all adventure “romances.”  
“Really?’ I say. “Don’t you want relationships that are a little more realistic?”  
Star Lord shrugs. “Hey, I think they’re great. In my opinion, nothing proves a couple’s unbreakable bondage of love like machine gunning down neo Nazi goons together.”  
“Yeah right” I mutter. “Whatever floats your boat I guess.”  
I go through a few of the bargain bins. I find a few that spark my interest. I show a few of them to Star Lord.  
“Monsters?” he asks.  
I shrug. “I like monster movies. They make my life look normal. Besides, they’re great!”  
Star Lord glances at the covers, reads the blurbs and gives me curious looks. “You have got to be kidding me, these are dreadful” he says. “No wonder they were in a bin for three bucks a pop.”  
“One dollar actually, they’re on sale” I say. “Besides, I like watching awful movies so I can riff on them.”  
“Mystery Science Theater 3000 style?” Star Lord said.  
I gasp. “Oh man, I love you dude! You actually know MST3K?!”  
“Dad and I used to watch them together,'' He says. My real dad. I have most of the series on DVD back home. He smiles as she remembers. I watch a tear form in the corner of his eye. He swipes it away quickly.  
I glance out the wide storefront window. The breath freezes in my throat. That same guy. He’s in the store, only a few isles away, reflected in the window.  
“Gwen.” I motion in the man’s direction with my eyes.  
“Crap! How did he get here so fast? He didn’t follow us” she murmurs.  
“We have to get away,” I whisper.  
Scott crosses his arms and thinks for a moment, tongue between his teeth.  
“I have a plan,” he says after a moment. “Just hear me out, ok? Leave the store, try to get to the car. Should he follow, I’ll get him with Gwen’s mace and call the police.”  
I stare at him. “Are you insane?” I demand. “That is the craziest thing I have ever heard! Why don’t we just call the police now?”  
“I think this will be better for him,” Scott says. “You know, get it across to him you don’t screw around with us.”  
“Sounds kind of dangerous.”  
“Look, all you have to do is walk, ok? If he comes at you, punch him or scratch him. You have nice nails,” he reminds me.  
I don’t want to think about this. This was just the kind of thing that would happen to me.  
I have a feeling I’m going to pay for this.  
“Ok” I say. “Try not to hurt him too bad though.”  
“I will never truly understand you, Eddie,” Scott mutters. “A guy stalks you and your reaction is don’t hurt him?” he shakes his head.  
Gwen just stares at Scott. “Are you serious? Just call the police, it’s the smart thing to do!” We’re not really paying attention to her though and she groans with frustration. “Alright, however this goes, I had nothing to do with it, alright!”  
Scott scoffs. “Nothing’s going to happen except a bit of fun.”  
“I think your definition of ‘fun’ is warped,” Gwen mutters.  
Star Lord pats her on the shoulder. “Hey, I'm here for you.”  
“Thanks, I guess,” she says.  
“Ok, Scott says, making sure the man is still where he had been.  
Scott walks up to the checkout counter, pretending to check out. I take a deep breath and walk as normally as I can out the door. I sneak careful glances behind me as I walk and see him on my tail.  
Scott leaps from the check-out line and tackles him from behind in the lower back region. They topple head over heels and the man struggles in a confused daze. “What the - AHHH!” The stalker screams as Scott grabbed his arm and holds him still, getting him right in the face with Gwen's mace.  
I am amazed at Scott’s strength.  
The guy in the hoodie lets out a roar and clocks Scott in the face, sending him backwards.  
Gwen gasps and rushes to help him. She manages to catch him as he stumbles back, as to not let his head hit the concrete and get a concussion or something.  
Star Lord rushes at the guy and is thwacked out of the way by the mighty swing of the hooded man’s arm.  
The guy tosses Scott up high into the air and he comes crashing down onto a trimmed hedge outside the video store before grabbing Gwen by her shoulders. She shrieks.  
“You will pay for what you have done!” The guy in the hoodie says in a vaguely familiar voice, though I can’t place it. “All of you, but certainly you, my dear!”  
The hoodie guy throws Gwen right into the street. She shrieks as she hits the concrete and skin is ripped away like sandpaper.  
There was a red light that just went green seconds before. There’s A huge semi, barreling down at a good fifty miles an hour. It’s less than a yard away, no time for her to move…  
In an instant, I am running, not even knowing what I am doing. Venom, sensing what I’m doing, starts yelling.  
“EDDIE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”  
“HELP ME!” I say out loud. “OR GWEN AND I ARE BOTH GONNA DIE!”  
In an instant Venom oozes forth from my body and fully forms in his hulking seven foot stature. He stretches his arm out as a long goo tendril that grabs Gwen and pulls her to us.  
Venom grips her tightly and with his other arm punches the hood of the truck coming at us. The force flips the car like a toy. It flips in the air a gazillion times before landing on its tires and continues going, both its driver and Gwen shrieking.  
Venom then shoots out a goo string, grabs a light post, and yeets us to safety.  
He lets Gwen go and recedes back into my body.  
Gwen and the others across the street all stare at me.  
The hooded man is gone.  
“What a rush!” Venom says out loud. His deep, gooey voice takes Gwen off guard. “You ok?”  
“No I am not ok!” Gwen shrieks shrilly, stumbling back in shock and fear, her voice so high it’s breaking and makes Venom twitch with irritation. “What the heck Is going on?!”  
“You were standing in traffic, about to become street pizza, I saved you” Venom says. “Simple as that.”  
“No, I mean, eddie, what is wrong with you? What… WHAT ARE YOU?!”  
Venom frowns. “I just saved your life, I figured I’d get a little more gratitude.”  
“GWEN!” The others rush across the street and over to Gwen and hug her, or rather collide hard with her, bruising her breasts, as she verbalizes.  
“Are you alright?” they demand. “You were going to die, then you weren’t. You almost got hit!” They turn to me. “How the hell did you do that; what was that?!”  
“Why are you upset?” Venom says, frustrated. “I saved her life! Is there is a problem with that?”  
Scott and Starlord are very shaken. They and Gwen all stand together a few feet away from me looking terrified.  
“I saved your life all for Eddie!” Venom says in exasperation.  
“Who are you?” Gwen stammers again.  
“I am a Venom! And you should be more grateful.”  
I forcibly take control of my body away from Venom. “Venom, shut up you’re being incredibly unhelpful!” I snap, out loud.  
Everyone stares.  
“What… what are you -”  
he can only hear me if I talk to him out loud,” I say. “He can’t, like, read my thoughts or anything!”  
“Ok, Eddie, you need to fucking explain yourself, like, right now!” Gwen says. “I don’t know what you are or what's going on but you’d better give us a good reason or we’re out, alright?”  
I bite my lip. “Yeah, you’re right. Come on, there’s a restaurant a street or so down, we can talk about it there!”  
The three look at each other and nod, cautiously.  
The air is cold against my skin as we walk and I break out in goosebumps. “How does this system work?'' Venom mutters in my head. Why does this body not heat the way it should?”  
“I could give you a detailed reason but it’d take too long,” I muter. “TLDR, we’re designed for a tropical climate but we’re dumb and inhabit places too cold for us.”  
“Yes, quite dumb, Venom grumbles. “I need to fix this and raise the heat… there we go!”  
Suddenly my temperature starts to rise to counteract the cold.  
“Perfect!” Venom says.  
However, by the time we get to the restaurant I am dying of heat. I am sweating all down the front of myself.  
“This was a mistake!” Venom says, worriedly. He tries to lower my temperature but can't figure out how.  
“Fuck you!” I mutter.  
We, as a group, enter the restaurant and are seated in a booth near the back. It’s a dingy little thing. I wasn’t paying attention to the quality when I mentioned it, but now that we’re here and up close and personal, it’s pretty trashy.  
Snow starts to fall a little outside the window.  
The others reluctantly order some food off the slapped together menu. I just sit by. Nothing really looks all that appetizing. Not that the greasy looking food would be great to begin with - it looks so removed from anything I’d like to eat it might as well be moldering garbage for all I care.  
There is one thing that interests me though. A waitress passes with a large pitcher of water and without even thinking I snag it right off her tray, tilt it back, and guzzle the whole thing, a ton of water cascading down the front of my chest.  
The waitress - who is probably a hooker who gives out handies and blowjobs at five bucks a pop off work - just stares at me. “What the hell are you doing?!” She slaps me upside the head and rips the pitcher from me, stalking off angrily.  
Venom growls slightly from my throat. He goes to take control and go after the woman but I snag control right back from him and sit back down.  
“We can’t eat her!” I mutter.  
“But why can’t we eat her?” Venom says. “You saw and felt what she did -”  
“She’s just doing what anyone would. She’s just doing her job, you can’t just go around eating anyone,” I say. “You’ve got to deeply observe these things; no snap judgements.”  
“Like the one I just made?” Venom says.  
“Exactly. And besides, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you’d just keep your mitts to yourself and respect society.”  
The others all stare from the other side of the table with wide and horrified eyes. I realize that from their perspective I've been rambling to myself.  
I grin, awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry for that…” I say.  
As we wait for the food to arrive I do my best to explain what Venom is, where he came from, and how our powers work and stuff like that. The others all listen intently, unsure whether I am actually sane or not.  
“That is an insane story, Eddie,” Gwen says.  
“Yeah,” Scott says. “So you’re like, possessed by an alien goo entity. That's bizarre.”  
“Thats cool!” Starlord says.  
The other two look at him in shock.  
“You’re like the ultimate outsider!” He says. “We’re like, kindred spirits now or something.”  
“You’re an idiot,” Gwen mutters. She turns back to me. “So, you mentioned something about living things, right? Like, you have to eat living breathing creatures? Care to elaborate?”  
I haven’t gotten to the whole people part yet and I decided on the fly to lie. “Forest animals, deer mostly,” I say.  
“Well, we do have a deer overpopulation problem I suppose…” Scott says.  
“Yeah!” Starlord says. “So everything’s fine, right?”  
I shrug. “For now I guess.”  
Gwen still doesn’t look convinced.  
“Look, I swear to you, I'm not dangerous or anything, ok?” I say to her. “I saved your life, I would never be able to hurt anyone!”  
She sighs. “I can’t help but feel you’re dangerous, regardless of what you say. I really hope you prove me wrong.”  
By the time the food arrives I am utterly dying. I find myself boiling in my own skin and sweating profusely.  
Hey, guys, I’m sorry, I need to go for a second, I need some cold air, it's so hot in here!”  
“Um… if you say so,” Scott says. “I think it’s freezing, I don’t think the clowns that run this place actually have the cash to pay for heating.  
I stumble outside. Venom’s tongue lolls from my mouth and I start panting. I stumble down the street, letting the wind kiss my skin. It’s better but still not perfect.  
Venom finally loses his temper and yoinks me into an alleyway. Tendrils appear and start stripping me naked.  
“What the fuck?” I demand.  
“Too hot!” Venom says simply, just as miserable as I am.  
Although I am horrified, having my whole body exposed does seem to help with the fever or whatever.  
Suddenly, Venom freezes and sniffs the air. “Food!” He says. And with that we’re off towards a private marketplace immigrant peoples have set up to sell live fish and fresh meat and whatnot to passers by.  
Venom sneaks the cooked leg of some exotic bird off a plate and gobbles it down - promptly vomiting it back up. The extreme acid in my stomach quite literally dissolves several nearby dumpsters to mush.  
“Why would you ruin perfectly good meat by baking it?” Venom says angrily.  
Venom licks my lips and reaches for a cut of raw meat on a countertop some hapless cook is prepping. Venom grabs it and shoves it in my mouth. I feel something going on with my teeth as they suddenly become sharp and tear through the meat beastily. Before Venom can swallow he suddenly spits it out.  
“It's dead!” He snaps. “I want something living!” The cook looks at the bloody and saliva drenched glob that's hit a far wall and quakes in fear.  
Venom walks around looking for what he wants. He tries piece after piece of meat, to the shock and horror and disgust of the other people.  
“Dead too long,” Venom mutters after trying one piece in particular he was hoping would be decent.  
He vomits it back up all over a fire hydrant across the street that then melts to nothing and explodes outwards. All the people scream as they are drenched by freezing cold water.  
Venom has been making no attempts to try and blend in. Everyone has seen me, and is wide eyed.  
“We need to go, we need to go!” I mumble under my breath.  
My hair is utterly dripping with sweat. They must think I am incredibly sick - which I am!  
Suddenly, Venom finds what he's looking for. A large tank filled with crustaceans.  
“Cool and food!” He says excitedly.  
He flips off the lid of the tank and lets it crash to the floor before making an Impossible leap and landing in the water. He sinks down in the water and the cool water caresses my naked body. It’s freezing and would be awful were I not boiling.  
Venom grabs a crustacean and starts taking huge bites out of it. The poor thing writhes still alive as it’s eaten, piece by piece, shell and all. I am disgusted as Venom forces my body to gorge down the entire tank of live seafood.  
Venom licks my lips. “Tastes good!” He muses. Venom sighs contentedly. “Much better.”  
I really don’t know how to feel. I’m sitting nude in a freezing tank of seafood. Where the hell did my life go so wrong?  
We stumble away after our little escapade in the streets. I feel embarrassed, ashamed, just all around awful.  
“You are ruining my fucking life!” I wail, not caring who watches at this point.  
Venom grumbles inside my head. “Look, I was hungry and hot, alright? Besides, I figured out how to lower your body heat. I just needed food to think properly, it’s brain power you know?”  
“Just shut up!” I wail.  
I slump in the trash filled alley we’re walking through and just huddle there, dirty, tired and miserable.  
A few minutes later the other three come out looking very worried. I just look up at them, ashamed, cupping my junk with both hands. Star lord is nice enough to grab my clothes from the alley down the street and I get dressed while the others have their backs turned to me.  
We leave just as the police arrive to take statements of people who were just “ravaged by the strange monstrous naked man” and to cap off the fire hydrant.  
After this whole bizarre incident none of us are particularly in the mood to continue shopping. Gwen is rattled and covered in a rainbow of bandages from her road rash, I'm humiliated and ashamed, Star Lord is confused as to his feelings, and Scott is embarrassed by his failed plan and very sore - his eye is totally purple and swollen shut from that nasty punch by the time he’s dropped off at home.  
I get back to my house and find Dad waiting for me in the living room.  
“Have you been waiting for me there all night?” I ask.  
“Yes.” Dad sighs. Eddie, why didn’t you answer my calls? “You didn’t tell me you were going out after school.”  
“After school,” I say with a nervous chuckle, “yeah.”  
“I couldn’t reach you.”  
“Oh,” I say. “I turned my phone off. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”  
“Why?” He asks.  
I admit to him that my old friends at my old school have been treating me weird since I moved and getting super jealous and stuff like that.  
Dad sighs. “Still, you should have answered me. I was freaked out and didn’t know where you were.”  
“I was fine, Dad,” I say.  
“And if you weren’t?” Dad asks. He has such a worried look on his face and my frustration with my friends fades.  
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I… I didn’t think.”  
“It’s alright,” Dad says, “Just please, don’t do that again. I worry about you a lot.”  
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say again.  
“I expect you to make good choices,” Dad says.  
I nod.  
Dad takes a deep breath and smiles. “So, what did you buy with your friends? He asks. Did you have fun?”  
“Oh, yeah,” I lie, “we sure did!”


	9. Alien Beasts And Super Suits And Stuff [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group are attacked by a symbiote and get some supersuits and gear as a resuklt.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Hey evrybuddy guess what willow actualy liked my chapter!!!! She said it was above avradge and morbidly intresting whatever that means. I wanna thank her so much foerr her help with this CH cause she helped me explain the symbiots and how they work and stuff. So thanks sepsis you rock and so does the mcu im so excited for blak widdor when the theators open agein!

The next day for the first few class periods of the day we have an assembly mourning the loss of Peter and Penny Parker. There are powerpoints and slideshows of both of them, their childhoods and school years. Everyone in the audience is crying and sobbing except me because I am strong and don’t want to come off looking like a wimp or anything.  
The four of us sit at our table at lunch, feeling kinda down.  
I look over at the others and Gwen and Scott in particular look super out of it, the light from their eyes and the journey of their lives snuffed out.  
Scott’s face is scrunched in frustration when he finally snaps, “So, what do we do about it?”  
“About what?” I ask.  
“That thing. The thing that killed Peter and his family. We need to find that thing and kill it before it can hurt anyone else! It nearly killed you too, Eddie!”  
“Are you seriously suggesting that we run around the woods at night searching for a rabid bear?” Gwen asks.  
“That thing was NOT a bear,” Scott says. “I've never seen a bear move like that, it jumped like a bazillion feet in the air for christ sake!”  
“He’s right,” Venom says, speaking with my mouth, making the others jump as they’re not used to him yet. “That ‘thing’ is called Carnage.”  
“How do you know?” Scott asks.  
“Because he is the leader. He is a special kind of my breed. His form holds all the rest of us.”  
“Wait… like… inside of him?” Gwen asks, wrinkling her nose.  
“Yes, exactly! We go inside him and he releases us into a body he chooses. If something happens to that body, we return to him and get reassimilated and then put into a new body. We are passed on through bites.”  
“Like a gooey alien werewolf,” Star Lord says.  
“Yes, like men wolves,” Venom says. “He has hundreds of us in him and once spread, they’ll start eating anything and everything that moves and completely take over the entire area before they start to reproduce and spread further.”  
“And why exactly are you telling us all this?” Gwen asks. “Why are you using ‘they?’ Aren’t you one of them?”  
“I like it here,” Venom says. “I like this vessel; I like Eddie. And besides, I am kind of a loser on my planet. I’d rather do my own thing than have to deal with them and their stupidity. I am smarter than they are, as you can see. I grasp human language easily, they can barely string sentences together!”  
“Yeah, yeah, you’re very special,” Gwen mutters.  
“But what are we going to do about them? We can't just let them take over and eat everyone in the town!” Scott says.  
“Why not?” Star Lord asks. “What have they done for us except act like assholes and treat us like shit?”  
We all stare at him.  
“Are you seriously suggesting allowing genocide because you don’t conform to the lowest common denominator of popularity?” Gwen says.  
“I didn’t say that!” Star Lord says exasperatedly.  
Gwen doesn’t look convinced.  
“Ok, I did, sue me, whatever.” Star Lord says, sheepishly. “So if letting the town get symbiote-ed is out of the question, how are we going to deal with this?”  
“Well, we kill it!” Scott says.  
“And you want to do that... how? By hunting it ourselves?” Star Lord says. “And with what? What are we going to do against a monster like that, use harsh language? Poke it with sticks? Calmly explain why murder is wrong in the eyes of society at large?”  
I marvel at Star lord’s witty commentary and jokes, in the face of danger, it makes my heart flutter like a cracked out moth trying to get at a porch light!  
“I know a way that we could do it…” Scott starts before trailing off.  
“Oh? How?”  
“Never mind,” he mumbles.  
“Fire,” Venom says. “Fire is the only thing that can kill us.”  
Suddenly He makes my whole body shudder. “I don't like that guy in the corner!” He whispers.  
“What guy?” I ask out loud.  
Venom swivels my head around abruptly to look at the person he’s talking about.  
It's a guy named Johnny Storm. I had a class with him once and he seemed nice. He's a preppy douche-bro type but I mean he's ok I guess. He looks awful. He's Drenched in sweat and has deep bags under his eyes. His head wobbles like a puppet type thing. I can smell the sweat from over here.  
“What's his deal?” I ask.  
“He is familiar…” Venom says, worriedly.  
Johnny makes eye contact with me and I look away.  
“He's been creepy all day,” Gwen comments. “He was staring at me all through algebra.”  
“Yeah, same.” Scott says. “You think he's ok?”  
I look back. Johnny flinches and drags his nails across the tabletop. They leave huge gouges in the plastic that go right through to the compressed wood underneath.  
“Imma lean towards no…” I say.  
After the bell we walk through the halls and go to sneak through the auditorium as we always do to save time and beat the rush of people clogging up the hallways. As we cut through the rows of seats, the door in front of us slams shut and locks.  
“What the?” I murmur.  
We hear the sound of something crawling around overhead. At first we see nothing in the dark but then we do see something!  
We stare up and something bluish and slimey catches the light.  
Gwen gasps. “What the fuck are you?” She yells, baring her fists.  
The other door behind us suddenly slams shut.  
A voice, low and sloppy, says, "your undoing." Johnny, his eyes white, a long blue tendril reaching from his hand to the light switch in the other side of the room, grins evilly before his symbiote tendril flips the lightswitch.  
Everyone screams and a sinister roar fills the room.  
“Eddie I need the body!” Venom screams.  
“Done and done!” I say.  
Venom takes full control and fully forms around me in a millisecond. He senses the other creature getting close and manages to catch it in midair. Venom is somehow able to tussle with the thing despite the pitch blackness.  
Gwen manages to flip her phone flashlight on. “RUN, RUN, RUN!” She screams to Scott and Star Lord.  
They make a run for one of the exits and try to force the door.  
The symbiote looks at them.  
“Panic! No! Leave them!” Venom growls.  
The blue symbiote creature, Panic, hisses somewhere nearby in the darkness.  
There is the sound of movement as it presumably ignores Venom’s words and heads towards my three unprotected friends.  
Suddenly, I go into a blind rage and, for once, hijack Venom’s body! He screams in my head in confusion demanding what I’m doing and how I’m doing it but ignore him.  
I barrel towards Panic, screaming like a banshee in my own voice and manage to beat him to the door simply by being more motivated. I feel adrenaline coursing through my body - presumably impacting Venom’s as well.  
I make a leap over Panic's head, bounce off the door - caving them outwards slightly with the force, and slam my fist onto Panic’s gross face. He stumbles backwards and I lunge towards him.  
I grab his head with both hands and raise him up off the ground. He thrashes and screams. I lash Venom’s tongue out, letting it stretch like an elastic band and wrap it around Panic's mouth, tightening it shut.  
Of course, in my rage I never considered that his hands and legs are still free. He lashes out and takes a hand across Venom’s flesh, making both of us scream. That same hand swipes and actually severs Venom’s tongue like a knife. Panic squirms himself away and runs off.  
Gwen, Scott, and Star Lord all have their phones out and shine them around frantically.  
Venom takes control of his body back and berates me for stealing it.  
Before he can finish, Panic makes a final leap from the ceiling. I catch him in the beam of Gwen's phone light. I take back the body and swing hard. I hit panic with such force my fist goes right through the symbiote outer shell and straight to the human core. There is a sickening crunch.  
The overhead lights come on, having been switched on by Scott who finally found the switch. In the stark light we can see Panic oozing from the newly decapitated body of Johnny Storm. The symbiote lets out an angered scream and quickly as lightning flees, moving across the floor like a centipede with thousands of spider webby tendrils dragging itself across the floor to the dented doors, through the meager crack, and away.  
We all stare at Johnny’s body.  
“Oh my god…YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM!”  
Scott grips his hair with both hands. “What… What do we do?” He squeals shrilly.  
We hear someone pounding on the door outside. It’s the principle! She bellows, demanding to know what we’re doing.  
“How are we going to explain a corpse?” Gwen whispers loudly.  
“We’re not,” Venom says. And with that he grabs the caved in head and the body of Johnny Storm and swiftly unhinges his jaw and throws both pieces down into his gullet. There is a wet noise and a gurgling as they are digested and Venom belches loudly a few seconds later. “Done, he says.”  
“Saved by the power of necro-vore?” Scott mumbles.  
The auditorium doors are busted open by the gym teacher just as Venom has finished completely receding back into my body.  
The principal walks in and stares at the three of us. Then at the carnage of ripped seats left by Panic. She blinks and then glowers at us. “Do I even want to know how or why?”  
“It was Gwen,” Scott stammers. “You know, like, periods and stuff. Bitches be crazy… right?”  
“Fuck you, Scott,” Gwen mutters, putting her head in her hands.  
Turns out the principal wasn’t fond of us cutting through the auditorium, the destruction, nor Scott's feeble attempts at raunchy comedy. We lied and said that the “vandalism” happened “because we were upset with current events and took it out on the uncomfortable auditorium folding chairs.” We were each slapped with month long suspensions from school.  
Of course, Dad’s pissed when he picks me up and he berates me with words like razor blades.  
However I have bigger things on my mind. Scott’s right, that creature, Carnage, needs to be stopped.  
...  
Sometime around nine at night, Scott sends a text to the group chat all of us created. He says that his Dad is going to be working late tomorrow and won’t be home until early the next morning. He says that, if at all possible, we need to haul ass over to his house and he’ll “show us how he can help.” None of us know how, but we all agree.  
Venom wakes me the moment Dad is out the door and off to his job.  
I leap out of bed and get dressed in a pair of black jeans with black sequins sewn into them that make skull patterns on the thighs and back pockets, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt with a sleeveless muscle hoodie on over that, a baseball cap with the monster energy drink logo embroidered on it and a bunch of anime pins stuck on all over it, and a pair of shiny leather combat boots. Then, I'm ready to go.  
Dad said that if he saw my truck out of the driveway there would be consequences. Not a problem. Thanks to Venom I can get to Scott’s place at a leisurely jog faster than that truck could ever go.  
I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing me, everyone is at work or school. The only person who could see me jump out my two story window to the driveway is our old neighbor, but considering he “mysteriously disappeared” a few days ago, he won’t be a problem.  
I let Venom take over and sit back and relax as he runs us through the woods to Scott's place. It is amazing to see how Venom can wind and weave around all the fallen trees and the shrubbery and everything like the most skilled gymnast.  
In less than ten minutes I have completely crossed town and am at Scott’s doorstep. He said in the text to just come in through the back door. In seconds I am inside his house.  
The backdoor opens into his kitchen. Scott sits drinking coffee and playing angry birds on his phone.  
He’s dressed like a total otaku. He has a t-shirt with an anime girl making that weird “hentai screamy blush face” and an Attack on Titan hoodie. He wears Adidas sweat pants and socks with the Game Theory Youtube channel logo on them.  
He flips the fuck out when he looks up to just suddenly see me standing there.  
“Hi!” I say waving. “Hi!” Venom says as well.  
“Um, hi,” Scott says. “Damn, didn’t think you’d be here this quickly.”  
We have to wait a while longer, but soon the others arrive as well.  
Gwen arrives soon after me, driving her little purple smart car.  
She’s wearing a cute designer outfit, a tight white top with a cartoon kitten wearing sunglasses, a short purple skirt, semi-transparent purple leggings, white converse shoes and fuzzy pink socks. She has some pink barrettes in her emo hair.  
“Your parents let you leave the house and drive around?” I ask as she walks in.  
“By parents you mean my Stepdad. He’s at work. My mom is at home but she doesn’t care. She’d probably prefer I died in the street the other day. She didn't give me so much as a slap on the wrist for skipping school.”  
Star Lord arrives a few seconds later and comes in wearing a grey goodwill hipster sweater, dark brown corduroy pants, a blue scarf and blue makeup and lipstick. His bangs are out of dreads and in a long emo cut swept over one eye. He wears a red beanie with a middle finger patch sewn into it.  
“Sorry for the color mismatch,” he says. “My other hats were in the wash. I don’t leave the house without one.”  
Ok, Scott, why did you call us here?” Gwen asks. “Why did you refuse to tell us before?”  
“Because you’d think I was crazy,” he says.  
“Really? Eddie is possessed by an alien goo monster and we’ve almost been killed, like, three times in the past week. I think we can handle anything at this point.”  
“Ok, then, follow me.”  
He leads us through the tastefully decorated yet messy house to a cellar door. It looks totally different than the rest of the doors that are all wood and look like a grandma’s house. This door is shiny metal and immaculately clean with a little passcode on it. Near the door is a metal plate. Scott presses his hand to it and there is a high pitched scanning noise.  
Venom growls in my head, painfully. “Loud noise, loud noise!” He roars.  
A second later the door makes a loud pop sound and Scott swings it open.  
“I have access, obviously. Dad expects me to make good choices. I hope he’ll understand that this is a good choice.”  
He leads us down into the basement. All our jaws drop. The basement is the length and width of the entire house and isn’t even really a basement at all. It’s a laboratory! Tons of huge machines and vats of chemicals and computers and stuff are all over the place in a clean and orderly fashion.  
“Holy shit!” Gwen says breathily.  
“Hello master Scott,” a mechanical british voice says.  
We all jump as a figure emerges from the shadows. It’s a guy completely made of metal!  
His outer skin is made up of hundreds of platelets with a few wires showing here and there. The exposed places glow with a red light. His eyes are red and look like camera lenses. He has no nose. His upper and lower jaw make a weird shape that looks like a clamp or something, I'm not sure exactly how to describe it. Where his cheeks should be are exposed and glow with the same red light. He has two plate things that extend out from either side of his head by a thin pole right around where his ears should be kinda like a Star Wars Tie Fighter.  
The robot guy looks around at all of us. “Who are these chaps?” He asks.  
“Relax, Ultron, these are my friends, ok?” Scott says.  
Ultron gives a little shrug. “Alright. Why are they here?”  
“Because they need super suits.”  
“Wait - what?” Gwen says.  
Scott waves us over to a large machine that looks like a giant 3d printer completely encased in glass.  
“Ultron, can you take measurements of these three?”  
“Of course!” Ultron says brightly.  
Red scanners shoot from his eyes and start rolling up and down over Gwen’s body. After a few seconds he moves on to Star Lord and then Me.  
“Done,” Ultron says.  
He then walks over to the big machine and reaches out. His hand disintegrates into a bunch of cables and a jack of some kind that all plug into a panel on the side of the machine. A ripple of electricity runs between the two. A panel comes to life, showing a holographic screen with all of our biological data on it.  
“Machine ready for suit construction,” Ultron says. He unplugs himself and walks over to the holo panel.  
He motions to Gwen. “You’re up first, young lady. Please take this short quiz and whatnot and I’ll create your suite off that.”  
“Um… ok…” she says.  
“First, what kind of extracurricular activities are you in?”  
“Gymnastics, cheerleading, and ballet.”  
Ultron brings up a bunch of pretty images with different color focuses, like juicy apples, pretty lilacs and green fern leaves.  
“Pick the colors you have an affinity for.”  
Gwen taps a pink flower, a white snowy tundra, a bright blue sky with wispy clouds, and an onyx crystal.  
“Favorite animal or theme?”  
She considers. “Well, I like spiders, I have a couple pet tarantulas. So… yeah, spiders I guess.  
“Anything other miscellaneous things I should add?”  
“Well, I like hoods, hoodies are my favorite clothes.”  
Ultron nods. He goes buck wild, his robot hands flying over their screen as he programs things. Seconds later the machine starts firing up.  
A bunch of individual spindly hands start 3D printing things and putting them together. Metal, electrical stuff, fabric, rubber and stuff are generated and placed and fused and stretched and popped into their proper places.  
As the suit finishes being created, Ultron takes Gwen's shoulders and makes her stand over a metal grate. “Stand there a second, if you will.”  
The machine makes a beeping noise as the suit finishes. The metal grate opens and Gwen screams as she falls down a shaft of some kind. Then, a second later she is shot back up. The grate closes as she lands on her feet, stiff as a board and terrified looking. Then she gasps.  
All of us stare at her.  
She is now dressed in a really awesome looking superhero costume. It’s mostly white on the upper half, except for some pink highlight bits with white spider webbing inside on the arms and back. Her upper back has an edgy looking spider hugging her. Her legs are jet black with several sharp lines shaped like mandibles that treach up and curve up around her boobs. The suit has shoes, two little blue ballerina slippers.  
Gwen goes on her tiptoes. “Wow, they’re actually functional!” She says.  
She reaches behind and finds several hoods. One is a big stiff hood like a super fashionable raincoat with a pink lining with spiderweb patterns all over. The second is a full face mask. It is totally white except for lines around the large almond shaped eyes that are pink.  
“Oh my god!” She says, dancing around. “This is so cool!”  
Ultron brings Star Lord over next and asks the same questions.  
Star Lord’s answers are; “I’m a hipster, I like old stuff; he picks a reddish brown tree trunk, a greyish petoskey stone, a red star and a close up shot of green moss; he says he hates all animals and only really likes guns and tanks and stuff.  
Utron fiddles with the control and places Star Lord over the same grate and when his costume is done he drops down and pops back up.  
When he does he is wearing an long brown trench coat, a grey shirt with an elegant old timey pattern weaved into it, bluish black pants made up of dozens of complicated folds and textures and stitches, black heeled combat boots, a bunch of belts and straps that hold various weapons. And slid up on his face is a robotic mask that when pulled down is bright red and somewhere between a welder’s mask and one of those old timey gas masks with red robotic lenses. When down his long bangs stick up and flow all over the face like a blonde bushfire. He has two guns with green tips that glow an even brighter green and are in kind of a funky C shape with two barrels that presumably shoot green lasers.  
“Wow!” He says and makes an action pose with both guns out.  
“Careful!” Scott snaps. “You’ll shoot us all to death, wait until we can practice!”  
Finally I’m up. For my extra curricular activities I can’t really answer so Ultron skips it. I pick a very dark night sky dotted with stars, a bright sunflower, a bowl filled with red candy and a vanilla ice cream cone. For theming, Venom pipes up and says he likes sharp things and spiders, like what Gwen had on her suit. I add at the end that I don’t want anything complicated to wear and it needs to be something Venom can easily ooze through and be unencumbered with. Something like a jumpsuit maybe.  
I stand on the grate and grit my teeth as I suddenly drop. I can’t help but scream all the way while Venom hollers inside my head like a kid on a roller coaster. I feel a flurry of movement around me as dozens of hands undress me and redress me.  
When I am thrown back up and land I see I am wearing the simplest costume so far. It’s a skin tight black suit that shows off every but of my musculature. They mold smoothly into rubbery yet sturdy boots. I wear a red belt with a circular clasp. I have a V shaped vest thing that is molded into the jumpsuit and makes several kinds of pointy shoulder pads. The bottom of the V goes all the way down to my crotch in a way that feels like an arrow that says “and here is this man’s junk!” My arms and hands have molded yellow gloves and matching stripes around my calves. The belly area has the shape of a monster’s maw and pointy teeth.  
“Wow! I say.”  
Scott shoves me out of the way and stands over the grate. He is put into presumably a premade suit. It’s a red and silver full jumpsuit that looks like a mechanical biker’s outfit with a motorcycle looking helmet with two individual buggy eyes and a short antenna on either side.  
“Wow!” We say. He presses a button on the side of his head and the helmet deconstructs and folds up into the rest of the suit.  
“I know, right? You like the suits?”  
“Love them!” We all say simultaneously.  
“Good.” Scott turns to Ultron. “Hey, can you ready us some fire based weapons? We have some evil creepy crawlers we need to burn to death.”  
“Of course, Master Scott, Ultron says.  
“Good.” Scott nods towards the door. “Then, let’s go test these puppies!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Thanks lucas for all the help with he editing and stuff you rock and are very helpfull and stuff and thanks to willpw for kinsa leavin me alone to write what i want and stuff its super helpful and stuff. I think shes doin another side fic or something about dc??? Whatever it is go check it out i guess its probabally good or whatevcer thanxks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, This is Lucas (I'm the one who posts the finished stuff and titles everything and whatever), There was a ton posted because I had a backlog of content. However, it takes me a while to edit the crap that Mark and Willow give me. Every time I open the Google Docs we all work in, it's like a fucking nightmare. Updates might be kinds slow from here on, if you're reading and like this, put the notifications on, Mark and Willow are far from done with this monstrosity.


	10. An Old Foe We Didn’t Know Was A Foe [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group meets their first foe after testing their powers and defeat him *spoilers*.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sex scene at the end of the chapter. Holy God it is GRAPHIC. Read at your own risk!

We run out of Scott's house and into the woods that surround the whole town.  
“We’ll need to find a good place to test this stuff,” Scott says. He holds up a tablet in his hand. “Ultron gave me this; it has all the details about the suits and how they work on it.”  
After some running around and searching we find a large wide clearing that should do the trick.  
We wait as Scott looks through the notes on his tablet. He then motions to Gwen.  
“Ok, your suit has a thing on the wrists that’s triggered by a specific hand movement,” He makes the sign language hand position for ‘I love you,’ “this activates it on either hand.”  
“What does it do?” She asks.  
“I’ll shoot out like webbing or whatever,” Scott says.  
Gwen takes aim at a little tree and makes the hand position, resembling someone at a rave. From her wrist some white spindley material shoots out and anchors to the tree. The little tendrils that go out in every direction and intertwin with one another to resemble a complex spider web or net or something.  
“Wow, that’s cool!” Gwen says, excitedly. She draws her arm back and it still holds on tight. “This stuff is strong!”  
She gives a sharp yank and the tree explodes from the ground, the roots sending dirt all over. She shrieks and ducks as the tree flies back at her. She balls her hands into fists as she does so and the web breaks away from her arm. God thing, the tree flies back to the other end of the clearing and would probably have dislocated her arm or something.  
“That was a close one!” Gwen says as she tries again on a different tree. It hits a branch near the top and she draws back, bending it over. She then makes a fist and the string breaks away, allowing the tree to snap back sharply.  
“Does this suit increase my strength?.” Gwen asks. “There is no way that tree should have acted the way it did.”  
“Yeah,” Scott says.  
“How exactly does that work?”  
He shrugs. “I dunno, I'm not a scientist, Dad’s the one that made it. By the way, all of our suits are highly durable and very difficult to destroy. Increased friction and fire resistance, bullet proof, stuff like that.” He then points to Gwen’s right wrist. “Try the right wrist, there is a second thing.” Scott makes a spade shape with his hand. “That should activate something.”  
Gwen does so and a full length sword extends from the suit. “Holy shit!” She yelps, not expecting that. Then she grins.She swipes at the tree she aimed her second webbing strand at and slices through the trunk like butter.  
“Adamantium,” Scott says. “Never needs sharpening, it can cut through fucking steel!”  
“Oh my fucking YAAAS!” Gwen says, making a samurai pose.  
Scott motions to Star Lord. “Ok you have -”  
Star Lord aims his guns and annihilates the trunk of Gwen's tree. Laser fire comes from both ends of the C shaped gun and annihilates both the trunk and the ground around it, melting the dirt to glass.  
“WHOOO!” He whoops, throwing a fist in the air.  
“Uh, yeah, the guns, obviously,” Scott says. “But there’s also a button on the glove.”  
Star Lord finds and presses said button. Immediately his boots start blasting fire and he is propelled about a foot into the air. “WOAH MAN!” He yells. The boots seem to steady themselves. Star lord tilts his body back and instead of falling backwards, the boots simply glide a little bit that way until he stands up straight. “This is so cool!” He says.  
“It’s neuro-controlled!” Scott says. “Just think about going higher or lower and it'll do that.”  
Star Lord propels himself higher and starts doing sky laps around the clearing, yelling and laughing before, begrudgingly, returning to us.  
“Ok, press the button again and it’ll shut off,” Scott says.  
Star Lord does so and the blasters cut and he drops to the ground.  
Scott then shows him how the mask works. It has targeting systems and night vision and other stuff that need to be gone over.  
“What does my suit do?” I ask.  
“Um…” Scott mumbles checking his tablet. “Nothing. It’s mostly just to protect you in human form and to look stylish while doing it. Venom’s kind of your superpower, right?”  
“Yes!” Venom says. He suddenly forms around me, shoots out a good strand and a boulder, yanks it back towards us and punches it with a fist shattering it to pieces. He throws some of his goop that harden in midair like stalactites and impale a tree like arrows. He then claws the tree in half with his monstrous claws. “No need to worry!” He says, grinning fiendishly before receding.  
“And what does your suit do?” Gwen asks.  
Scott presses a button on the back of his gloved hand and we gasp as he shrinks. We stare down at him and he looks up, the size of a G.I Joe. “That’s what it does!” He yells up, his voice high and chipmunk-y. He presses it again and grows up to the size of a giant, the size of the trees around us. “And that!” He says, voice booming. He presses it again and returns to normal size. “Cool, right?”  
“This is the fucking best!” Star Lord says, jumping for joy. “But, wait, we need, like, superhero aliases or whatever, right?”  
“Is that really necessary?” Gwen asks, a slight groan in her voice.  
“Probably,” Scott says. “You know, to protect our identities. Good idea Star Lord!” He thinks for a moment. “You know, I think I’m gonna go with Ant Man since I shrink, mostly.”  
“I mean, I already have my name,” Star Lord says.  
“Eddie, you already have Venom, which is a bitchin’ name by the way,” Scott says. “And you could be spiderwoman!” He says to Gwen.  
She shuffles her ballet slipper-ed feet. “I’d much rather just go by Gwen, you know?”  
“Ok, so, Spider Gwen then? Split the difference?”  
She sighs. “Alright, sure, whatever.”  
“And I get to be Ice Man!” says a voice behind us.  
We all turn and gasp. It’s Ice Man, from school!  
He’s dressed in a pair of black jeans, combat boots, thick gloves and a blue parka despite the fact that it’s summer (LUCAS, AN: It’s early spring and cold as balls, Mark, do you have short term memory loss, YOU WROTE THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER YESTERDAY!). His hair is all spikey and he has a beard (like how he looked in Days of Future Past, the one where he was dating Ellen Page.) in his hand is a large super soaker that looks cold for some reason and is glowing a blue color.  
“What the hell, what are you doing here?” I demand.  
“Getting revenge! You asshole!” Ice Man screams, his teeth gritted in anger. “Taking my spot on the team? You think you can just waltz in here and take over my shit? All of you are going to pay!”  
Ok, but why are you threatening us? Gwen says, motioning to herse;f and Star Lord and Scott. “What did we do?”  
“Look, i just hate you and stuff, ok! You’re a slut and Scott’s annoying and Peter Quill is a pretentious poser!”  
“How dare you insult my realness!” Star Lord growls, pointing his own gun at Ice Man.  
“Ohh, slut, sick burn,” Gwen says, rolling her eyes. “Can we just stop this? How did you find us anyway?”  
He just stares at Gwen with a “dude, your so stupid” look on his face. 

Lucas, AN: So, Mark didn’t actually write what the “look” was supposed to mean or how Ice Man found them. I’m just going to assume he teleported there via the gaping plothole. 

“Enough talk!” Ice Man yells. “I’m done with this shit, I'm done with you!” He holds up the super soaker. “This is filled with liquid nitrogen! They call me Ice Man for a reason, bitch!”  
He squeezes the trigger and a blast of liquid nitrogen launches at us. We all duck and dodge. It hits a far tree and the whole thing freezes solid. Ice man throws a rock he has in his pocket and it shatters the frozen tree to pieces.  
“I’ll do the same thing to you!” He says with a fiendish grin.  
We all have to start dodging and running from his blasts of liquid nitrogen to keep from freezing and dying.  
Scott keeps shrinking and jumping around like a grasshopper, trying to get close enough to stop him but is unable.  
Venom is panicking because freezing is the other thing that can kill Symbiotes apparently.  
Star Lord is an awful shot and, though he tries to get in a good hit, is unable to do so much as nic the crazed Ice Man.  
Gwen is surprisingly active and swings from tree to tree with her webs like Kim Possible does with her hair dyer thingie. She swings around and hits Ice Man right in the face. His gun goes flying.  
Scott grows tall enough to grab it midair.  
Star Lord shoots laser fire at Ice Man’s feet, making him jump backwards towards me. I shoot out a Venom tendril that wraps around him like a rope.  
Venom wants to kill him but I decide not to. Ice Man is just a dumb jock, the testosterone must be messing with his head or something.  
I break the tendril and ice man falls over hissing and screaming, his torso fully tied so he’s unable to get up.  
We all pump our fists in the air. Our first battle won! We yell, happily.  
I carry Ice Man over my shoulder back to Scott's house.  
We change out of our clothes and stow them in Gwen's car’s trunk for safe keeping.  
We manage to cram into her tiny smart car and are able to get to the police station.  
We walk in with Ice Man and his liquid nitrogen gun. Gwen has to hold it with gloves to keep from freezing her fingers to nasty black stubs like in those freaky ass surviving mountain climbing documentaries.  
I roughly toss Ice Man to the front desk and he screams swear words and ends up spilling his whole testimony in a villain rant.  
Pathetic mini boss, I mutter as he is dragged away by several cops to an interrogation room while Scott and Star Lord explain what happened to the cops.  
Several listen and take testimony and several others pick and poke at Venom’s tendril. It’s melted and hardened into a thick rubbery plastic texture.  
“Um, what is this and how do we get it off?” They muse.  
I bite my lip. I didn’t think about that.  
“You may need the jaws of life for this one,” Gwen says, shrugging.  
Thankfully the plothole energy worked it’s magic and nobody asked anymore questions leaving the four of us to leave unscathed. Then we all go back to Scott’s house, grab out suits, and go back home before our parents know we’re gone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
STOP IT LUCAS YOURT RUNNIN THE STORY!

LUCAS, AN: You’re right, I am running the story, I’m the one editing it. I’m the God of this fic, Muahahaha!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
U MUTHERFUCKER YOU KNOW WHAT I MENAT BY THAT!!!!!!! JUST FUCKIN STOPT IT YOUR RUINING THE STORY!!!!!!!1!!

LUCAS, AN: Your little crackfic was ruined long ago, my friend!

When we get home I carefully hang my suit up in my closet and decide to take a shower to decompress.  
Venom mentions, in the shower, that he finds me attractive.  
It always comes across as weird to me that an alien goo monster would be interested in a human at all.  
I mention this to him out loud and his reply is, “I guess it is, how you say, a fetish,” before chuckling.  
I suppose it's interesting for weird creatures to be fetishizing humans instead of the other way around, I give him a pass for honesty. I guess it's almost kind of flattering really.  
Once I get out and dry off, I go to put on some sweat clothes so I can Netflix and chill. But, Venom has other plans.  
He oozes from my skin and his warm and pulsating tender body ripples across my body. Venom shudders. “So soft, so beautiful…” He says. Venom’s body seems to just hug and cling to my body, pulsating with pleasure just by being in close proximity to me. “You are a pretty human. I like your body very much.”  
“A lot of it is your own doing,” I note.  
“Not all. Your soft skin, your pretty face and eyes, the fuzz on your chest and tummy…” He says dreamily, trailing off.  
“Um… thank you?”  
Venom’s head, a small version, takes form. While his face can be very frightful at times is, at this current moment, peaceful and smiley and actually kind of non threatening (surprising, since his eyes are so strange and his teeth are so long and sharp).  
Venom unfurls his tongue and licks up from my navel to my neck to the underside of my chin. The feeling of his warmth really turns me on.  
Venom shudders with the dump of hormones. “You taste so good…” He muses.  
Venom’s deep voice sends shivers up my spine and, in a setting like this, is so sexy.  
I am getting very hard now.  
One of Venom’s tendrils envelopes my cock and starts constricting and pulsating, imitating the motion of penetration. I moan as the feeling of pleasure fills me.  
Venom’s face smooshes up next to mine. “When you feel good, I feel good. I am glad you humans have sex organs, they feel so good!”  
“You’re a damn good partner,” I say, breathlessly, as Venom continues working on my cock.  
Venom’s face melts into my skin and reforms in the middle of my back, looking down at my butt. A tendril forms back there and slowly slides down my crack.  
“What are you doing?!” I ask.  
“You use oblong phallic tools,” Venom notes.  
“Dildos?” I ask.  
“Yes. and they make you feel good inside. I want to feel that…”  
Suddenly, I feel some of Venom's form solidifying in my anus and swelling larger.  
“OH, OH GOD!” I say out loud.  
The tendril pulls back and then is forced back down. Venom’s body is a natural lubricant; it’s the smoothest and most perfect fit I have ever felt - unsurprising - as he is form fitting. The tendril drills deep inside of me and I can feel it pressing against my prostate, sending shockwaves throughout my body.  
Venom hisses in delight. “That is it!” He says. “You like the feeling of phallic penetration?” Venom asks.  
I am so lost in pleasure right now all I can do is nod.  
Venom takes it and begins to emulate me being plowed by a giant cock, hitting the prostate on every thrust.  
I am on my knees and venom enjoys that. My head is down, ass up, as Venom works on me. I perpetually moan.  
Venom hisses deeply. “I love the way you sound!”  
Sweat forms, my body temperature rising.  
I fall to my hands on all fours, my instinct kicking in, and my hips thrust forward instinctively. Venom seems to take delight in such primal actions.  
I feel my orgasm starting to rise from all of this. Venom can feel it too, his deep voice moaning as well.  
“Please, release,” Venom cooes, “I want you to feel it again! I want to feel your warm sex milk inside of me!”  
I couldn’t possibly correct him on what cum actually is. Him saying sex milk is so odd but the phrase begins to push me over the edge.  
Venom’s modifications to my body have extended to my genitals since he found out what they did that first night. When aroused, my balls are forced into high gear and pump out three times the amount of semen they originally do, making my sack bulge, and allow my orasms to go on much longer than normal so all that extra cum can escape me and the pleasure can last. He has extended the length of my cock for my own self esteem, but also for his own aesthetic pleasure I think.  
I am pushed over the edge.  
I bellow incoherently as I begin to ejaculate, powerful blasts of cum escaping me and filling venom’s cock covering like a water balloon. I just keep cumming, his modifications allowing me to for up to a full minute on the button. My hips keep thrusting as my cock keeps spurting.  
Venom gets an idea. The tendril around my cock stretches, curls back and presses against my lips and forces into my mouth. The hollow tendril acts as an esophagus and in seconds I feel a slippery tangy taste. Venom is literally feeding me my own cum.  
The full minute seems to go on forever as I ejaculate, blasting jets over and over, taking in mouthful after mouthful of my own seed. Venom’s tongue joins mine in my mouth to flick around and take in the state along with me, and always whispers inside my mind to swallow.  
Finally, it ends. The last pump of cum exits my cock and travels up into my mouth for the last swallow. I collapse onto my side, panting and twitching with aftershocks. My long, spent cock, goes flacid and lays limp and dripping. My stomach is so full.  
I can still feel venom deep in my guts, pulsating and warm, but he no longer thrusts.  
Tendrils interlace over my ravaged body in a tight lusty hug.  
Venom’s face covers half of mine, suckling my skin in his own version of a kiss, just as tired and spent as I am.  
“I love you, Eddie,” Venom whispers. “I love you too, buddy,” I whisper back.

LUCAS, AN: I. SACRIFICED. MY. SATURDAY. FOR. THIS. Mark, you owe me big time for making me read and then EDIT this SHIT! *Throws up repeatedly*


	11. Love and Lies Are in the Air [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama between Eddie and Star Lord leads to a class change, a dangerous date, and a deadly reveal that Star Lord isn't entirely what he seems...

WILLOW, AN:: Hi readers! It’s my turn to write some chapters again, thankfully. I hope you guys are enjoying this. Mark’s vision has been… interesting. This particular section of the story’s been kind of a mess but I can assure you, I’ve got plans for the future! The prologue is going to mean something and we’re going to get some different POV’s. And for anyone worried, don’t worry, we’re all ok behind the scenes! : )

When I wake up in the morning I am eager to get to school and talk to the others.  
It’s been a couple weeks and our out of school suspension has come to a close. Of that couple weeks we’ve been preparing ourselves for a new confrontation.  
Gwen is doing everything in her power to track down this Carnage creature. She has been combing through police reports and news articles from the surrounding areas looking for anything that could potentially be our creature.  
Scott has been working with Ultron to put together both Fire and Ice weapons to use against the Symbiotes.  
We’ve snuck out often to test our super suits and become more comfortable with them.  
Venom and I have been practicing sharing each other’s bodies, Gwen has been swinging around and practicing sword fighting against Ultron - who has a similar built in sword and is knowledgeable on how to properly use it - and Star Lord has become a better shot with his guns. Scott is already pretty good with his suit, unsurprising, since he’s had it far longer than the rest of us have had ours.  
We hope to use our skills and tech to return Marvel Falls to the peaceful place it once was.  
I look in my closet for a good outfit for today and my eyes land on the supersuit. I tense a little.  
The confrontation the other day was such an experience, the rush of dopamine that stopping a violent criminal brought was and still is intoxicating. If a low level thug like Ice Man could give me such a rush, I can’t imagine what defeating Carnage will feel like.  
I finally decide on a tight plain black t-shirt, a pair of regular jeans, white socks and my black converse shoes. I don’t feel like drawing attention to myself, but do have a sort of vain desire to show off my muscles. I put some gel in my hair to make it kind of spiky and punk looking and also decide on a little eyeshadow to darken my eyes and make me look a little bit more brooding. Star Lord has given me a ton of makeup products that I can neither confirm nor deny that he stole from the local Dollar Tree. I also throw on some silver chains and other punkish jewelry I happen to have.  
I don’t know why, but I want to look more imposing. I’m tired of looking like the goodie two shoes I have all my life. Old scruffy push over Eddie Brock is gone, this is the new me.  
While the fight a couple weeks ago may have been good for my popularity, I hope to avoid such things in the future and hope to be more diligent with my violence. I cringe every time I think of the dental work that jock and his girlfriend must’ve had to go through. Getting teeth knocked out is no laughing matter, exposed roots, chunks potentially left in the gums that could need surgery to remove? I can’t believe I actually celebrated that at the time.  
I recognize that the power Venom has given me has made me more cocky and less sympathetic to those outside my friend group. I’m going to do my best to work on that.  
As I walk onto the bus and back towards Me and Star Lord’s usual seat that he is dressed in a way I find rather attractive. He’s gone for a much more nonbinary look today, wearing a masculine shirt, a slipknot concert tee, a charcole skirt, deep purple leggings with the Cheshire Cat from Disney’s Alice in Wonderland printed on them, and a pair of his sister’s pink converse shoes. His hair is in his usual dreadlocks and he wears a black beanie. This is the rare day he isn’t wearing any makeup, presumably to help balance out the nonbinary look a little more.  
I comment on his look as I sit down and he shrugs. “I just threw it on, it’s nothing he says dismissively,” though I can see in his eyes that he rather enjoys the compliment.  
I feel a twinge in my gut as I realize I’m probably one of the few people who’ve given Star Lord positive attention in his time living here. What a sad thought.  
At school we go to our usual table with our breakfast to sit with Gwen and Scott.  
Gwen is dressed conservatively today, black leggings and a purple hoodie and her ballet shoes. She has minimal makeup and no barrets or anything in her hair. She’s on her school chrome book continuing her research.  
Scott on the other hand is eating with one hand and playing Unblocked Tetris with the other on his ChromeBook. He’s dressed halfway normal today, a simple sweater, jeans, and a pair of boomer-esque loafers. He looks to have been wearing a stocking cap but removed it, allowing his tousled black hair to go in every direction. I wonder if he’s ever used a comb in his life.  
We sit down with them and I ask what the sitch is.  
“Well, farmers have been warning the public about some unknown predator that’s been picking off livestock,” Gwen says. “It started out small but soon there were huge hulking cattle and work horses coming up dead. Some seem to have been eaten, only hooves and a few larger bones remaining, though the flesh seems to have been dissolved by an acid of some kind. Others have been torn to pieces and left in odd ways as though killed for the fun of it rather than for food.”  
“That is definitely Carnage,” Venom says out loud.  
“That’s what I figured,” Gwen says. “Farmers and authorities haven’t quite put it together yet, especially since they all seem kind of random.”  
My advanced hearing picks up on the clack of high heels against the tile floor. I look up to see Mary Jane approaching. She’s wearing an orange turtleneck sweater with a red scarf draped around her shoulders, a skirt with little cherries printed all over, pink stockings and red high heel shoes. Her makeup is heavy as ever with a reddish and blushy color palette like she’s ready for an instagram photoshoot.  
“Hi, Eddie,” she says with a sultry expression on her preppy face.  
She sits down next to me and slides in close.  
She looks over at Gwen’s chrome book before Gwen shuts it abruptly. “Research?” How captivating, she says sarcastically.  
She looks into my eyes. “Hey, can I borrow you for a moment? I have a few… things… to ask you about.”  
I glance over at the others.  
“We’ll talk in first period,” Gwen whispers. “We’re watching a documentary and it’s a substitute, they won’t notice.”  
I take a walk with Mary Jane through the halls.  
“So, what’s up?” I ask.  
“Well, I’m having a party this weekend and I was hoping that you’d come.”  
“Oh?” I say. “Where?”  
“It’s in my father’s cabin up in the mountains. It’d be an all weekend thing. Please tell me you can make it!”  
“Um… probably,” I say.  
She brings her hands to her chin in a cutesy way. “Ooh, I‘m so ready for the weekend!”  
“Me too!” I say in false excitement.  
She suddenly walks ahead of me and stops me. She looks up into my eyes with an innocent face though I know it’s anything but. “So, Eddie, why are you still hanging out with those guys?”  
“What do you mean? They’re my friends.”  
Mary Jane laughs. “Really? Trust me, Eddie, you’re too good for them.” She flips her hair. “Gwen? I could tell you stories about her that would make you want to puncture your eardrums.”  
“Really?” I say, skeptically.  
“Oh, yeah. For example, Peter? Why do you think she’s so upset? They were fucking. Hard. and it wasn’t a pretty picture. I guess when the relationship started out he was super good to her but started becoming abusive. Honestly, I think she needed somebody to knock her around a little and show her some perspective. Nobody leaves Mary Jane unscathed.”

WILLOW, AN: Everything I was doing with Peter got messed up when SOMEBODY decided to make him into an asshole. Guess I’ll have to roll with the punches.

I ball my hands into fists and I feel my face go red.  
Venom starts churning my insides. “Are we going to kill her? I think we both want to kill her!”  
“I need to piss,” I say abruptly and walk away from Mary Jane and don’t look back.  
I can pick up with my super hearing that she’s cursing under her breath. She can’t shit talk about others with me, I’m not one of her posse.  
I slip into the bathroom and try to calm my breath. I walk over to the sinks and splash some water on my face. I feel eyes on me and look up to see none other than Quick Silver looking at me. “Hey,” he says simply.  
“Hey.”  
Quick Silver stares at me with a bit of a dreamy look on his face.  
“Do I have something on my face?” I ask awkwardly, wiping my nose with my thumb self consciously.  
“No, of course not,” he says, shaking away his stare. “There’s nothing wrong with your face. It’s gorgeous in every way, I imagine mere men would fight tooth and nail for such beauty.”  
I stare at him again. “Thanks. Was that for real or sarcastic? I really am unsure.”  
“Did I not sound sincere?” He asks.  
I teeter my hand and he deflates.  
“Anyway…” He says, “you look upset. Are you, like, ok?”  
“Your sister’s just pissing me off is all.”  
“She has a propensity to do that.”  
“Is she always pro-abuse or does that just extend to Gwen?”  
“She’s fucked up, I don’t know what else to say,” he says shrugging. “I told you to stay away from her.”  
“She keeps coming for me!”  
“Yeah, she would. The moment some hot dude walks in she wants it.”  
“You think she’s crushing on me?”  
“If by crush you mean dominate, then yes. I don’t think people get her off, I think it’s only control. Give her an inch she takes a mile. Just do what you can to stay away from her if possible.”  
“Easier said than done,'' I say, sighing.  
Quick Silver looks into my eyes. They capture me. I feel as though I'm falling into them. I’m suddenly at ease. I notice for the first time the scent of vanilla and lilacs and cinnamon that he has about him, all my favorite scents. Does he wear perfume?  
“I hope you don’t mind me rambling,” he says.  
“Oh, it’s fine,” I say. Suddenly his words aren’t so strange.  
“I just… care.”  
We stand there for a second longer before a couple jocks come in and we both disperse and go our separate ways.  
...

As I’m sitting in health class later in the day, labeling all the parts of the female anatomy, everyone looks up when there is a knock at the door.  
Mary Jane comes walking in with a clipboard. “Hey, Mr. Hawkeye,” she says to the Health and Science Teacher. “So, Eddie has had a schedule change. He’s been transferred over to the school paper slash yearbook.”  
Mr. Hawkeye is taken aback. “Oh. alright then.” He points at me. “Pop quiz, where’s the labia?” He says, motioning to an anatomy chart on the screen.  
I gesture to the proper spot and he grins when I answer correctly.  
“Very good job. Hand me back your textbook and I guess I’ll be seeing you later in the year for this class.”  
Mary Jane loops her arm through mine and pulls me through the hallways. I look back and see Star Lord glaring daggers at me from his seat in the back of the classroom and my heart sinks.  
“How did that change happen?” I ask as we leave. “I don’t remember signing up for the school paper.”  
“You said you wanted it on your first day so… I pulled some strings.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah. Well, actually I gave the teacher, Mr. Jay Jonah Jamosan, a hand job.”  
I go rigid and blanche but Mary Jane doesn’t seem to notice.  
“Slut,” Venom says in my head.  
“Yeah,” I whisper in agreement.  
We walk into class and Mr. Jamosan looks up.  
He is a well dressed man in his mid forties wearing a cream-yellow suit, a red tie, fancy black dress shoes, and an expensive looking Rolex. He has sharp features, neatly combed black hair that's slightly silver, a mustache, and has a pencil in between his teeth.  
“Mary Jane, you’re back,” he says, his voice distorted from the pencil in his mouth. “Is this him?” He says motioning to me.  
Mary Jane nods.  
“Hi sir,” I say and we shake hands.  
“Oooh, that’s a good firm shake there, boy, means you’re confident, I like that.”  
“What’s with the pencil?” I ask.  
“Oh, I used to smoke but, you know, that’s not acceptable anymore these days. I just need something there as a replacement. It’s worked for about a decade for me so I’m not stopping now.”  
“I was just wondering,” I say. “You know, cause It’s kind of phallic. Like, the way your sucking that thing, along with your ‘stache that makes you look like an 80’s gay porn star.”  
“Why whatever do you mean?” He says as he deepthroats his pencil, giving me a hard boner.

WILLOW, AN: LUCAS! YOU ASSHOLE!

LUCAS, AN: ; )

I shake my head to clear my thoughts.  
“What’s up?” Mary Jane asks.  
“Just had a weird daydream,” I say, shuddering in disgust at the thought of Mr. Jamosan doing anything remotely sexy.  
“Well, welcome to the daily bugle, son!”  
“What’s the daily bugle?” I ask.  
“That’s what we call the school newspaper. We write for the actual newspaper itself, help run the school website, and do the morning announcements.”  
“You’ve heard my lovely voice in the morning, right?” Mary Jane says.  
I nod, cringing internally. She always manages to put everyone in a preppiness-induced bad mood every morning.  
“Well,” Mr. Jamosan says, “take a seat, whip that ChromeBook out and we’ll rustle you up a story to work on!”  
...

At lunch I’m the first to sit at our usual table and wait for the others.  
Since I don’t eat regular food anymore and don’t have to bother with the line, it’s easier to escape Mary Jane who, as the one to lock up the newsroom, is always near the back of the line. 

WILLOW, AN:: I can't stand where the romance plot has gone. We're this far in and it's not even been established? You flushed my plans down the toilet, Mark. I'm done; I'm starting over! You'll see what I mean! : )

To my surprise, Star Lord skips the line entirely and comes over, looking pissed.  
“Hi -”  
“Hi nothing!” He cuts me off. He sits down across from me with a huff. The look in his eyes is deadly and he makes me shrink back.  
Um… what’s wrong?”  
“What’s wrong? I hear whispers from some of the jocks that you were flirting with Quick Silver in the bathroom and now you’re palling around with Mary Jane and you have the GAUL to ask me WHAT’S WRONG?”  
I sigh in exasperation. “Really? It was nothing, Star Lord, ok? Quick Silver complimented me and that’s that. As for Mary Jane, I didn't request a class transfer, she did it all herself. She’s interested in me now, I guess because I have abs now, though I’m not interested in her at all.”  
“Oh really? Then why not tell her?”  
“I don’t want to be rude,” I say.  
“‘Don’t want to be rude?’ Really? It’s not because you want to fuck her?”  
I am taken aback. “What the fuck?! Stop it, you’re putting words in my mouth -”  
“Am I? Or am I just rightfuly assuming that you’re fucking around with me?”  
I look up as Gwen approaches.  
“Help me!” I mouth at her.  
She slides in next to me. “So, what’s up?”  
Star Lord goes into a long rant about how I’m playing him and cheating and crazy shit like that.  
Gwen just stares at him. “How can he be cheating on you if you’re not even dating?”  
Suddenly Star Lord changes his story and starts saying that, actually, we are dating.  
I remind him that he kissed me without my consent and that I bever verbalized we were in a relationship nor that I was interested. I don’t tell him that, deep down, I was interested because if he’s going to cat like this over nothing, then he’s not worth my time.  
Scott shows up and sits down and Star Lord starts to fill him in as well, his story changes even more to include emotional manipulation, physical abuse, and that I’m spreading NB-phobia to make him look bad, despite the fact that, A) he’s not even nonbinary, and B) it’s a hundred percent not true.  
How we got from “I saw you talking to Mary Jane and her brother” to “You are gaslighting me and slandering my name for the sake of sociopathic pleasure” I have no idea.  
The whole unchroom ends up just staring at us as the four of us yell over each other.  
Suddenly, Star Lord becomes so enraged that he lashes out, grabbing my arm with incredible force I didn’t think he had in him.  
I yelp as he squeezes, hard. “Get off!” I yell, trying to shake him off.  
Scott jumps up and grabs Star Lord, pulling him off me.  
Gwen rounds the table and gets right in Star Lord’s face while Scott holds him. The look on her face is pure venom and the words that exit her lips make him shrink lower and lower. “Leave, Peter Quill. Try that shit again and you’ll be going home in a body bag.”  
“Or eaten alive,” Venom says out loud. “I am getting rather peckish!”  
Star Lord’s look of fear quickly turns to anger. He rips himself away from Scott and storms off, throwing the doors to the cafeteria open, letting them slam shut so hard they nearly shatter.  
I just sit, utterly fuming. “Hey, Gwen,” I say, abruptly.  
“Yeah?” She says breathily, looking exhausted.  
“You used to date Peter, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“And he was friends with Quick Silver?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You don’t happen to know his phone number, do you?”  
...  
Tonight, I fall backwards into bed, phone in hand.  
I look over at my arm, black and blue from where Star Lord grabbed me.  
I punch in Quick Silver’s number. It took some serious interrogation to get that number from Gwen but she finally gave up and just told me.  
Quick Silver seems surprised when he answers.  
“Eddie?” He says.  
“Hi,” I say.  
“So, you up to skipping tomorrow and buying a boy a coffee?”  
...  
Dad left early this morning to go work out at the local gym. I guess that is his usual thing on his days off.  
I get up and get dressed. I want to wear something intentionally provocative I know will piss Star Lord off. Unfortunately I don’t have too many sluty outfits. I end up going with a white deep v-neck tank top with the pattern of skulls wearing headphones all over it, the tightest pair of black pants I can find, a leather jacket that is kind of big that I can suggestively let slip off my shoulders should I want to, and a ton of Axe Body Spray. Quick Silver is a jock and if jocks like anything, it’s Axe.  
It's A brisk morning before anyone is even up I imagine.  
I get in my truck and rumble my way through town and to a local coffee shop we decided to meet at called the Sugar Spoon.  
I arrive and find the place empty - not surprising since it’s pretty early in the day.  
“Hello,” a suave voice says.  
I swirl around and jump. Quick Silver is standing right behind me. He has a playful twinkle in his eyes.  
He’s dressed surprisingly today. He wears a button down white shirt with the color popped, a pair of greyish black slacks, and dress shoes that are nice, but have that same funky glowing green color on the soles. Odd. his hair is well combed and styled and his white teeth are sparkly as ever.  
“God, you scared the crap out of me,” I mutter.  
“My apologies,” Quick Silver says without looking sorry at all.  
We order our drinks at the counter. I recognize several workers as fellow students. They look bored until they see us and look surprised. I recognize one of the girls as being a popular girl.  
Vincent and I sit down in a booth towards the back of the shop.  
“It is kind of nice to have the place all to ourselves,” I say.  
“Yeah,” Quick Silver says. “I rather enjoy the silence.”  
“Don’t get much break time?” I ask.  
“Not at school,” he says. “Everyone is always talking random shit. I hate it. No meaning to me at all.”  
“I can relate. With your sister around, I always seem to get sucked into the drama. Usually I just filter out the rest, if possible.”  
Quick Silver smiles again. He has an oddly amused look on his face as though I am making him incredibly happy right now though I have no clue how. I am not doing anything remotely funny.  
“Speaking of drama, how are you doing with Star Lord?” He asks. “I heard about the whole blowup yesterday.”  
“Ugh!” I mutter.  
“That good huh?” Quick Silver asks.  
“He is being such a prick about literally everything!” I exclaim. I start ranting about my frustrations with Star Lord. I am feeling a certain delight right now showing everyone up and living on the wild side with Quick Silver. I never do anything exciting so this is a real treat for me.  
“That boy does have a certain Irrational fear of me. Though, not entirely unfounded…”  
I open my mouth to say that “of course Quick Silver is not frightful in any way but I decide not to. He really is creepy. Something about the way he acts, his stature and his looks. He looks… off. Too beautiful. something that shouldn’t exist outside of a renaissance painting.  
“What was that?” Quick Silver asks.  
“I didn't say anything.”  
“Oh’ thought you did,” Quick Silver says. He looks curious. “I really can’t get a read on you,” he says. “Funny. I am usually able to… get a read on people, you know?”  
I guess. I sip my coffee. “You like your stay here?” Quick Silver asks.  
“Yeah,” I say. “It is ok. It’s a little hard to adjust, I guess.”  
“How come?” He asks.  
I shrug. “Not used to it. And I’m going through a bit of a difficult time now.”  
“How so?” Quick Silver asks.  
Remembering mom’s face and the real reason I am here makes my face flush. “It reminds me that this is not an extended stay, that this is a permanent stay,” I say. “I… don’t want to talk about it.”  
Why? Edward asks.  
“It’s personal and painful,” I insist.  
“I’m a good listener, Bella. Sometimes it is better to talk instead of bottling things up.”  
“I said no.” I say it as politely as possible, though it still comes out pretty vicious.  
Edward looks surprised but nods. “Alright, Bella, if that’s what you want…”  
I take a long sip of my coffee and sigh. “So what is your deal?”  
What do you mean? Quick Silver asks.  
“I hear your family is weird. Like, you live in a house with torture chambers or some shit.”  
“Wow,” Quick Silver says. “Where did you hear that?”  
“Scott,” I say. “I don’t think it holds much water however. He isn’t as good at getting info as Gwen.”  
Quick Silver chuckles with the sound of a wind chime. “I can see that! Really, there is nothing to fear from us, Eddie. We are different in some ways sure, but harmless.”  
“I figured, I never really figured your family was a league of supervillains or anything like people say.”  
“Have you ever wondered about dying?” Quick silver says, out of the blue.  
I am shocked. “What?” I say. After thinking of mom briefly this was not something I needed to hear.  
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be on the brink of death and then suddenly be pulled back? Have all the pain suddenly stopped?”  
I think for a moment confused as to why he would ask such an odd question. “No, not really,” I say. “Are you talking about miracles? Like from God? I think that is a possibility.”  
“Not quite what I was asking,” Quick Silver says under his breath. “Have you ever done anything dangerous that could compromise you? Hiking tough terrain or climbing or something?”  
“No. I’m not much of a risk taker,” I say. I am confused by the point of Quick Silver’s questions.  
Quick Silver has been looking straight at me this entire time. He is far too still. He is like a statue that only moves when… When necessary.  
The guys at the counter are trying to listen in on our conversations. They don’t seem to notice Quick Silver unending stare.  
My eyes meet Quick Silver’s and his eyes are odd. The irises don’t seem to have a fixed color and seem to be a rainbow of colors with every tilt of the head and angle. They catch me.  
Suddenly, Quick Silver’s eyes are less charming and more deep. Deep and holding back things I can only dream of. They create a sort of tunnel vision. My brain goes lax with a smile on my face. I am caught.  
At first I don’t notice anything. Quick Silver talks to me and I nod and laugh and reply without knowing what I am even saying. It is as though I am in a sort of trance.  
After a while, however, It is as though a fog lifts and I realize that the entrancement has happened. That I literally can't move. That I am fixed in place. That nothing wants to respond.  
My smile fades little by little and I try, and fail, to look away.  
Quick Silver takes notice.  
I am trying to move everything at once but nothing responds.  
Quick Silver leans in, looking curious. “Eddie, are you alright?” He asks. “Why are you afraid?” He seems genuinely perplexed.  
I would answer if I could but my eyes are still frozen. They grow wide as Quick Silver leans in well into my personal space.  
Suddenly, Quick Silver looks away to the people at the counter. “Be careful what you post!” he hisses at one of the two - a girl. She is on her phone and looks up surprised. “I was not about to kiss him!”  
Quick Silver looking away returns the movement to my body. My arm swipes the table by accident sending my own drink as well as Quick Silver’s that he never even looked at down to the floor.  
Quick Silver looks my way but my leap up. He looks confused as well as powerless.  
I ignore his eyes.  
Quick Silver now has an edge to him that I was not aware of before. A certain danger to him that I now recognize those eyes were the eyes of a killer. A hunter. A thing to be wary of.  
“What's wrong?” Quick Silver tries to ask.  
“I have to go,” I say sharply.  
Suddenly the empty coffee shop seems less inviting or safe. I wish it was filled to the brim with people. Even if it was, I would probably still leave.  
“Bye,” I say quickly and leave with my body still shivering from the complete loss of control I experienced. I never want to feel that again.

LUCAS, AN: Good repurposing of assets, Willow. Wonder what this passage was from before, I couldn’t guess. Next time use the “Find and Replace” tool, it’s more accurate than manually changing the names. Also, if you’re going to use stuff from old projects of yours, at least make it consistent, all right? When did Quick Silver suddenly get vampire powers? lmfao!!!

...  
I was planning on spending the whole day with Quick Silver but, after that scary little fiasco I just experienced, I have no intention of doing so.  
I just manage to make it to school before the bell for first period rings.  
Thankfully, we are still watching a documentary in the first hour thanks to the substitute teacher. She’s a complete ditz and won’t notice if we’re talking.  
I recount my experiences to Gwen and scott.  
Gwen rubs her temples. “I told you I didn't want you to talk to him!” She says. “I used to be one of Mary Jane’s mean girls just like Peter was one of her jocks. Quicksilver always acts like that and it took me forever to finally say no, and leave. Peter was willing to put up with him way more than I was. Why do you think we broke up? Until the day we went to that house, he was mad at me for leaving before he did.”  
“Quick Silver is a creep,” Scott says, his humor gone and replaced by seriousness for once. “You’re lucky he didn’t do anything too bad. He has a history of being an ‘alleged’” - he makes air quotes - “abuser.”  
“That makes all too much sense,” I mutter. “I feel so stupid for what I did.” I wring my hands and make a verbal moan. I forgot how badly I bruised my knuckles on the side of Quick Silver’s face.  
“Ooh, you going to be ok?” Scott asks.  
“Yeah, I'll be fine,” I say.  
“You need me to beat him up?” Scott asks. “I can do that.”  
“Are you joking?” I ask. “I don’t know, am I?”  
I sigh. “Let’s just forget about Quick Silver, please? My worry is now about Star Lord…”  
...  
Star lord and I get into a huge fight on the bus.  
At first it was just awkward; Star Lord said nothing to me when I sat down next to him and didn’t for the first twenty minutes or so. It was painful, but bearable. Then, it all goes downhill when Star Lord abruptly says, “So, I heard you got coffee with Quick Silver.”  
From there it devolves into a huge screaming match as I try to calmly explain myself while Star Lord shrieks and writhes and sobs. Everyone stares at us the entire time and my face never leaves the bright shade of embarrassed red.  
Star Lord keeps gaslighting me over and over again. When I tell him that my relationship with Quick Silver and Mary Jane is nonexistent, he just says that, “no, i’m lying, and I know I’m lying.”  
After a good ten minutes of going in circles I say, bluntly, “I hate Mary Jane’s guts with a passion and I specifically set up and went on the date with Quick Silver since you’re being so pissy!”  
This was a huge mistake. Star Lord doesn’t take being called “pissy” well. He somehow manages to get even more erratic and unreasonable.  
After another hour of us biting each other’s heads off, we pull onto the road that’ll take us to Star Lord’s house. He finally stops screaming and just slumps in his seat, arms crossed and remains that way until we pull up to his house.  
“We need to talk this out. I'll meet you in the woods behind your house in an hour. You better fucking be there." And with that he gets up and swiftly strides off the bus.  
I sigh sadly as I walk up the long driveway to my house.  
Venom tries being helpful, suggesting we just find a gangbanger in the city or something to munch on and take the edge off. I decline, obviously, though I thank him for his concern.  
I go directly up to my room and dump my bag on the floor. I fall into bed, the flimsy pullout squeaking and shifting dangerously. I’ll end up breaking this thing one of these days.  
I check my messages and find that sometime during my and Star Lord’s huge argument Gwen had texted me.  
“Hey, are you ok? A girl who rides your bus I’m acquaintances with says you guys were in a big fight.”  
“I’m fine,” I text back. “It was a nasty fight, but we’re going to try and work it out later tonight. We’re meeting in the woods behind my house.”  
“I’m getting a bad feeling.”  
“How so?”  
“He is getting obsessed with you to an unhealthy extent.”  
“I suppose.”  
“He’s always been kind of inconsistent. It's like he has BPD or something.”  
I think back to it and I suppose he has been kind of wonky. Moody, nice, hateful, loving, alternative, desperate to be popular... I guess he really does run the gambit.  
“I’ll ask him about that later.”  
“Just be fucking careful, I don’t trust him anymore.”  
“Maybe that’s for the best,” I admit in my final text before putting my phone into sleep.  
I sigh and glance at my watch with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I guess it’s about time. Hopefully this will be more productive than before.  
I exit the house and follow the path down into the forest. It's a cold and rainy day out so I’m not sure why he'd want to meet outside like this.  
I stroll down the path, taking my time, procrastinating as long as possible. Despite my slowness, I do still arrive at the creek. I look around at the place where Star Lord and I met that first time, long before this awful drama started to tear my life apart.  
That branch he accidentally hit me with is still there, the needles long since having dried out and turned brown.  
I sit at that same fallen tree and listen to the forest sounds; the rain, the babble of the creek, and the few animals still out and braving the drizzle. It's so nice and peaceful.  
Venom keeps asking what certain things are, forcing me to break the silence to answer question after question. While I’ve grown to love this doofus of an alien parasite he does still find ways to annoy me.  
My head jerks to attention when I hear the rustle of ground brush crunching under Star Lord’s feet.  
He’s wearing a white t-shirt with flowery patterns all over it, long black pants with colorful patches on the knees, a pink raincoat, a pink beanie, and earthen brown galoshes. His makeup is on point, making him look almost predatory; like a man eater.  
“Hi,” I say simply.  
“Hi,” Star Lord says, just as simply. He sits on a fallen log a few feet away. He looks off into the distance refusing to make direct eye contact with me. “So, tell me the truth.”  
“I already have,” I say. From there I calmly reiterate what I already have.  
Star Lord lets out an angry sigh.  
“Do you still not believe me?!” I demand, rapidly getting irritated. “What do I have to fucking say to get it through to you?!”  
“I believe you,” He says, abruptly. “I don’t want to, but I believe you. You’re right, I’ve been kind of a jealous bitch, haven’t I?”  
“Yes,” I say.  
Star Lord is taken aback. I don’t think he was expecting such bluntness. He sighs deeply, again. “I just want you, Eddie… I want you all to myself.”  
“If you mean no ‘romantic rivals,’ I’m telling Quick Silver and Mary Jane straight up to leave me alone.”  
“Good. Then get rid of Gwen and Scott.”  
It’s my turn to be taken aback. “Wait - WHAT?!”  
“You heard me,” Star Lord says with a demanding affect to his voice I don’t recognize.  
“Dude, they’re our friends!” I half say, half yell. “What are you saying -”  
“I started hanging out with them only because of you!” Star lord yells. “You think I like them? They’re nothing but preps and posers!” Angry tears start streaming down his face. “Gwen’s a liar if she says she has no interest in preps! She used to BE one of them! She can say whatever she wants, she can hate Mary Jane all she wants, but once a prep, always a prep, you get that?!”  
“She is not a prep -”  
“And Scott? A wannabe hipster who can’t decide what he wants. He bounces around from so many different styles, how can he be a hipster if he can’t be consistent?”  
“Are you seriously discounting them for this petty shit -”  
“YOUR IMAGE IS EVERYTHING!” Star Lord yells, jumping up and jabbing a finger at me. “Trust me. I know.”  
I feel my face go red. “You know what, Star Lord, if you want me to choose, then guess what? I’ll choose! I choose my real friends, the friends who invited you in with open arms! I gave you a chance and if this is what I get in return, then you can just jerk off to that kiss you gave me all alone at night cause that’s the only thing you’ll ever get from me!”  
I turn to walk away and Star Lord’s tone abruptly changes. “Wait, Eddie, what are you doing?” He says, breathily, the fire gone from his voice.  
“I’m going home.”  
“No… don’t… please…” He murmurs.  
“What’s your damage?” I demand whirling around to face him.  
Star Lord approaches, tears falling from his eyes, his limbs quaking violently. “I love you, Eddie. It’s why… why I’m, so angry! I… I’d do anything for you!” He openly sobs. “I can’t live without you!” He sniffles in again. “But, I guess I’ll have to!”  
I hear a click and my blood runs cold when I notice a switchblade in his hand.  
“STAR LORD NO!” I scream as he lunges at me.  
I throw my arm out and the knife goes right through my palm, out the back of my hand, the tip of the knife grazing my cheek. Star lord is upon me, gripping one wrist with one hand, trying to pull the switchblade back with the other. Dozens of tiny tendrils grip the knife tip as it’s drawn back so he can’t stab me again.  
“EDDIE! I NEED TO DO IT!” Star lord wails.  
I shoot a Venom tendril from my shoulder and use it to pry away Star Lord’s grip in my wrist.  
With that hand free I grab at Star Lord’s face, trying to do something, ANYTHING, to get him off me!  
My fingernails connect with his forehead and catch the skin before dragging down past his nose to his upper lip. As they do, I actively scream in horror.  
Star Lord’s fucking face peels away like a mask. It is a mask! The skin warps and distorts before all human features vanish and it becomes a blue hood similar to a ski mask with bizarre metallic scales all over it. It has a ginger wig connected to it that morphs from Star Lord’s hair style and lengthens out and smooths out and slickens back and flat with a slight curl at the end.  
I look up and standing in front of me, bouncy black hair cascading down Star Lord’s shoulders, is the surprised yet still bitchy face of Misty Que.  
“Misty?” I gasp.  
Misty, in surprise and shock, stumbles backwards a few feet away from me.  
The tendrils that still hold the switchblade tip stretch and transfer it, handle first, into my other hand where I flip it closed and pocket it so she can’t try and kill me again.  
It is so bizarre, the sight of Misty’s body perched on top of Star Lord’s body. However, it suddenly changes, the clothes receding into themselves, the whole stature of her body changing, reverting back to her normal body type, leaving her standing there with a skin tight suit the same as the hood I still hold in my hand.  
Her voice is choked with tears as she finally replies with, “Yeah. It’s me.”  
“How…” I muse. “How and why?”  
“It’s a suit, dumbass!” She yells. “It’s a special suit that morphs to let me look like anyone! It has sensors that mess with brainwave patterns to mimic everything from touch, to voice, to smell, in addition to the suit morphing thing. It switches back to its base form when taken off.  
She eyeballs the pocket I stuck the switchblade in and makes a sudden lunge. I shoot out a Venom tendril and brace it against her middle. She struggles to push forwards, her suit’s feet digging tracks into the forest earth.  
“GIVE IT TO ME!” She wails. “IT’S IMPORTANT TO ME!”  
“MAYBE YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE USING IT TO KILL ME!” I yell just as loudly.  
I throw her backwards onto her ass and generate a dozen more tendrils that wait at the ready to break her to pieces if she tries getting any closer again.  
“Is there even a real Star Lord?” I demand.  
“A real peter quill you mean?” Misty says. “I came up with the whole Star Lord thing, it sounds cooler!”  
“That’s highly subjective, to put it charitably,” I say flatly.  
Misty huffs. She looks down, not meeting my eyes. “He’s in an underground bunker inside the old barn outside of town.”  
“Highly unspecific, give me an address,” I say. S  
he gives it to me and I punch it into google maps to get directions.  
I toss her the mask to her costume. “This isn’t over,” I say.  
She crumples to her knees on the ground, clutching the mask, still sobbing. She looks up at me with pure hatred in her eyes. “You’re right, it’s not!” She yells after me as I take off running for the barn.


	12. The Real Pe4ter Quill [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang save Peter from captivity and wait to go to a party at MJ's so they can defeat Carnage, who'll probably be there to be a menace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a vanilla half-sex scene towards the end of the chapter, not too bad, but forewarning just in case.

WILLOW, AN: Ok, so, Mark saw what I was writing and was like “OOOH! You’re doing an action scene? Can I do it, please?” I have other things I need to do so, after I laid it all out for him, I decided to let Mark prove me wrong and show me he can actually write decently and finish this little story conflict. Fingers crossed!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Hey stepsis thanks for lettibg mwe write this one i realy thank you a l;ot fpor that and thank for he notes on whattt you wanted to dio and how you qanted it explaned, ill do that jut fine! Enkot! 

I text the others and let them know what the situation is and for them to get to the barn as quickly as possible and shoot them the address.  
I run at full speed to the barn and coincidentally arrive just in time to meet the others. They pull up in Gwen’s smart car and come out.  
Gwen runs up and hugs me. “Oh my god, Edie, I’m so sorry!” She says, “how could this have happened?”  
“I don’t know,” I say.  
“I wonder how Misty got her suit,” Scott says. “You think she broke into my house at some point or something? How else could she have gotten technology like that?”  
“And who do you think helped your father build that technology, Scotty Boy?”  
We look up and, from the window of the barn, stands Quick Silver, looking very unhappy. In an instant he vanishes from the window and is suddenly in front of us.  
We all gasp.  
He grins, snidely and raises a foot. “Like the shoes? Yeah, they make me run fast. “Quick” silver indeed! And these, he motions to his eyes. Thought controlling contacts!”  
I gasp. “You - you were trying to take advantage of me?” I gasp.  
“No, I’m not a date rapist. I just needed to keep you away from Misty. That dumb bitch thought she could be with you if she only pretended to be Peter Quill! She knocked him out your first day, and we helped lock him up here so she could assume his identity. I was going to leave it to her and let her do whatever she wanted, but I’ll admit I became infatuated with you myself.”  
“Who made the suits, Quick Silver!?” Scott yells.  
“My father,” he says, “Magneto Watson. Your father’s partner and best friend.”  
Scott gasps.  
“Well now, I hate to say this, my dearest friends, but I can’t let you have it in that bunker,” Quick Silver says. “If you tell anyone what’s there we’ll all be ruined! I hate to do this, Eddie, Gwen, Scott, but I’ll have to destroy you. But, at least it’s an even match!”  
“Even? But, you’re alone!” Gwen says.  
“For now,” he says. There is a blur of light and suddenly he’s carrying two people on both shoulders, Misty and Erin.  
Erin has a flamethrower strapped to her arm and looks so miserable as she’s set down and prepares it as though really uninterested in killing us.  
“Now it’s even!” Quick Silver says. “A quick zip here and there and I have them!” He chuckles. “I’ll be sorry to see you all go.”  
“I dougbt that highly,” Gwen says.  
“Well no duh!” Misty quips.  
“I’ll especially miss you, Edddie,” Quick Silver says. It’s a shame to have to destroy your beautiful beautiful body!” He licks his lips. “I was so hoping to have my way with you.”  
“ATTEMPTED RAPIST!” I Yell.  
“Yes, indeed!” He says.  
I lunge forwards and bellow in rage.  
Quicksilver, Misty and Erin all lunge as well, initiating the first epic battle of Marvel Falls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Hey i kinsa procrastinated for too long and am writing this at like 1mam caus ei cant slleep caus eof insomnia or whaatevr. I had like a while battkle pkan in mind but like that;ll take a super long time to write anh honesztly im not suepr up for it. Im just gonna go over to gwen i think that way i dont have to worry bout it hope thats ok. Btdubbs thanks lucas fir making my stuff readable tyoyre awesome buddy!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!

LUCAS, AN: I’m in no way your “buddy,” but you’re welcome.

WILLOW, AN: Wow. Wow. You couldn’t even do the ONE THING we agreed on. Good job “proving me wrong,” Mark. >: (

Gwen POV:  
I grab Scott's arm and yank him towards the bar entrance as Eddie and Venom go to fight the others.  
“Oh god, we should have bought our suits!” Scott huffs as we run.  
I glance over my shoulder just long enough to see Eddie using a Venom tendril to grab a nearby piece of farm equipment at Quick Silver who blips himself out of the way.  
We leap through the doors and slam them shut behind us just as another piece of equipment hits it, denting the heavy metal inwards.  
I shudder. “That could have been us,” I muse.  
I take in our surroundings and am taken off guard. This seems to be a clubhouse of some kind. There are TVs, gaming stations, fancy couches, tables piled with junk food, a wet bar and a ton of other stuff.  
“They’ve got a sweet pad here,” Scott comments.  
“Yeah, right?” I say. “I’m jealous.”  
I spot, in a corner, a large metal door, and sprint over to it. It’s a door that’s exactly like the door in Scott’s house. However, this one has a 4 digit keypad.  
“Oh, shit!” I mutter.  
I notice a paper taped to the wall next to the keypad. It reads, “look around the four corners for the answers. Smallest to largest.  
Scott blinks. “What is that supposed to meN?” He says.  
I do as the paper said and look around. In one corner I see a poster taken from a travel agency. One of the slogans is “from coast to coast.”  
I snap my fingers. “Scott, paper please!”  
“Um…” he fumbles with his pockets.  
“I NEED SOMETHING, LIVES ARE AT STAKE!” I yell.  
Swcott takes off at a rum and leaps behind the wet bar scrambling for something.  
I tap my foot impatiently.  
He comes running with a small spiral notebook in the shape of a flower and a matching pen with purple ink inside.  
“Ok?” I say.  
“Ok,” he says.  
I point to the travel poster. “2,” I say.  
“2?”  
“Yes. write it down!”  
I glance to another corner. There is a painting seemingly taken from some old lady’s house. A young girl sits at a table eating some kind of porridge, an innocent smile on her face, despite the dribble going from her mouth to the bowl.  
“8,” I say.  
Another corner has a large silver statue of a man dunking a basket.  
“1,” I say.  
The last has a nazi swastica spray painted over a Hello Kitty poster, presumably in refrence to the cat in question raising her left arm in a wave that kind of looks like a “heil,” if you’re an idiot anyway.  
“9,” I say. “Ok, it’s 1,2,8,9, punch that into the keypad!”  
Scott jabs those numbers into the keypad as the battle rages outside.  
Through the wide windows we can see Eddie and Venom beating the shit out of Misty and Erin while Quicksilver tries to protect them both while also trying to kill Eddie. Hopefully they don’t succeed.  
The door pops open with a gush of smoke and we wait impatiently for it to fully open.  
We both bolt down the stairs and gasp as we look around. It’s some kind of murder dingeon! It’s stark and sterile and expensive looking, but it looks like a morgue. There are tables with straps and tons of weird kinky shit on the walls.  
We both look around and I immediately run over to the figure slumped forward in his chair in a corner. It’s Star Lord!  
I get down on my knee in front of him and lift up his unconscious face. This is definitely the Star Lord I am more familiar with!  
His hair is in the same scruffy sweepy texture and the correct carrot color, his clothes a long leather trench coat, a green long sleeved shirt under that, blue jeans and work boots. He always had a masculine look to him before Eddie showed up, I can’t believe I managed to forget that about hikm! Maybe it was Suick Qilver’s contacts. I might’ve made eye contact with Quick Silver without meaning to at some point. He is handcuffed to the chair, his boots tossed away leaving him barefoot so they could fit a second set of handcuffs around his ankles. He has a pretty extensive beard going on a rather potent funk to him.  
“He must’ve not been able to shower since Eddie showed up,” '' I say out loud.  
“Man, that’d have to suck,” Scott says. “I don’t even want to KNOW how bad the swamp crotch must be from that.”  
I look around and see a fresh bottler of water. I crack the seal and squeeze. It’s a flimsy aquafina bottle. Going green is great because it allows me to blast the water right into Star Lord’s face.  
“GHA!” He gasps, bolting upright so hard he hits the back of his head against the chair. Scott and I wince empathetically.  
“What the fuck?” He says. He looks at both of us. “Gwen Stacey? Scott Lang? What are you two doing here? Where’s Misty, she locked me in here, that psycho bitch!”  
“Well, we’re here to get you out!” I say. I pull one of the barretts from my hair and peel the butterfly glued to it and warp the bobby pin into something to pick the lock.  
After several seconds on intense breath holding, the handcuffs come off with a click. We get the similar cuffs around his ankles.  
We hear the upper part of the bunker explode.  
“Come on!” I yell.  
We all just run for the upper level, hoping that we can get out before the whole thing collapses.  
We exit the bunker just as Eddie goes flying backwards, thrown by Quick Silver. He goes crashing through the furniture and crashes through the other wall.  
We run through the wide crater in the side of the building.  
We all hear screaming from above and look up to see Misty and Erin both tied to a branch by Venom's goo. It’s melted and hardened just like it did with Ice Man.  
Erin just looks depressed and silently tears up while Misty flat out wails, cursing us, cursing God, cursing love, cursing everything.  
We all hear another crash and we look up to see Eddie flying through the air and comes to land a few feet away from us, leaving a crater. He has quicksilver by the throat. He then covers him in goo, cocooning him like the snuggest sleeping bag ever made.  
He bellows as Venom grabs him by the shoulders and holds him up to his face.  
“Listen to me you little shit!” Venom yells, “You think you’re better than me? Guess what? You’re not! We have real problems to deal with! You and your little shitlords over here? They’re not cutting it! Now, use your little contacts to erase Misty and Erin's memories and leave us alone, pernimantly, and we’ll call it a truce.”  
“And if I don't?” Quick Silver snarls.  
“Then I’ll eat your face and then your arms and legs until you are this armless legless thing that I’ll send rolling down the street, like a turd in the wind!”  
Quick Silver blinks. “Yeah, sure, whatever I need to do to avoid that!”  
Venom raises him to the faces of Misty and Erin and, after a few seconds of him staring into their eyes, their eyes roll back in their heads as they pass out. “They’ll wake up not remembering any of this in a few minutes,” he mutters.  
“Good,” Venom says. He snaps his fingers and the goo from all of them shrivels away. “This never happened.”  
Quicksilver glances to the barn that has taken a good couple grand at least in property damage. “Yeah, uh huh, sure.” In a flash he has both Erin and Misty and runs off with them.  
Venom recedes into Eddie's body and he looks at us, grinning. You see what I did there? His grin fades when he sees Star Lord barely standing with the help of Scott and I, looking miserable.  
“Oh, god, Star Lord, I’m sorry!” Eddie says.  
Star lord blinks. “What? Star Lord? Christ, nobody’s called me that since middle school when I was a D&D nerd.”  
“Oh, sorry.”  
“It’s fine, just call me Peter Quill. Gotta use the last name since Peter Parker’s the most popular of us.”  
We all bare our teeth in awkwardness.  
“What?” Peter asks.  
“Um… we’ll discuss on the way home,” I say, sadly.  
…

WILLOW, AN: Ok, it’s back to me, I’m doing the rest of the chapter. 

I get weird looks as I walk into the school this morning.  
It’s not because of my outfit. I tried to pick out something innocuous, something simple. It’s just a jet black hoodie, black sweatpants with red highlighting up the sides of the legs, my black high tops, and a black beanie. The only thing that might draw attention is that I look either like a bank robber or a school shooter. But, I didn’t feel like wearing anything eye-catching, I just wanted something comfy and bland.  
Still, everyone stares at me and I hear whispers. Of course, with my new super hearing I can make out what those whispers are.  
I guess Quick Silver came into school utterly pissed and has remained that way all day. I haven’t seen him all day and, if the rumors are to be believed, it’s because he has specifically taken hallways he knows I don't use and gone out of his way to stay away from me.  
I have seen Misty, however. She has seemingly been confused all day. People will talk to her about stuff that happened in the past couple weeks and she’ll just stare at them and mutter that she doesn’t remember anything.  
Erin has been behaving similarly, somehow managing to act even more skittish than usual. I wonder if Quick Silver’s contacts worked a little too well. I hope they’re ok.  
Even though Misty was a psycho I guess I still feel kind of bad for her; that she felt as though she needed to wear someone else’s face to truly live the way she wanted to.  
I haven’t seen Peter Quill much. After we drove him home yesterday he just kind of shut down. He’s missed a little over a month of daily life and so much has happened in that amount of time.  
The look on his face as we described how Misty was behaving while impersonating him was that of pure horror and depression.  
He didn’t know how to behave when we told him about Peter Parker dying. He was very quiet at first but then finally spoke saying that the last time that he and Parker had actually spoken it was over petty shit; Parker not approving of Quill's “lifestyle.” He had said he hated Parker. He seemed genuinely upset that they couldn’t solve their issues before Parker and his whole innocent family were murdered.  
He thanked all of us for rescuing him when we finally stopped in front of his house.  
He hasn’t said a word to us all day, though I’ve seen him in passing with his head down.  
He came to school wearing something similar to what we found him in, a band hoodie under his long leather jacket, black jeans with holes in the knees, and his manly work boots. His hair is unkempt and tousled and no longer bleach blonde.  
Everyone seems shocked that he looks normal finally after Misty made him look and act bizzare all the time. I guess the spell Quick Silver must have put over everyone to make it seem as though his behavior was normal has been broken.  
I have heard mocking words and nasty jokes made at his expense. My stomach always twists into sympathetic knots every time I hear it. I am so over the day in general as I walk into the school paper office.  
Mary Jane is there to meet me and my blood begins to boil instantly. I am NOT in the mood for her right now!  
I walk right past her and sit down at my desk to wait for Mr. Jamosan to show up.  
Mary Jane looks shocked for a second but shakes it off and approaches, looking very much like the Plastics from Mean Girls. She wears a flowery orange dress with a yellow ribbon tied around her waist, her hair permed and curly and bouncy, her stack heels clacking against the tile annoyingly, like the horse hoof coconuts from Monty Python.  
She seats herself in a roly poly office chair and scootches up next to me, a dreamy look on her face. She just stares at the side of my head even though I am doing everything in my power to ignore her.  
I type frantically on my ChromeBook to finish a last minute assignment I forgot to do for a different class. With a smug smile, she closes the lid of my ChromeBook on me.  
I let out a deep, irritated sigh. “Can I help you?” I ask.  
“I just want to talk,” she says.  
I feel a rush of irrigation flow through me like veins of lava through the goddamned Earth.  
“Talk about what? Your actions say everything, you want to drag me out of this classroom to a broom closet and fuck like rabbits, it’s the only thing you’ve wanted since I got here.”  
She scoffs. “Well, I wouldn't put it like that, but something along those lines.” She drapes herself across my lap, like we’re dating or something which is definitely not the case.  
I roll my chair back abruptly and let her fall. “What the fuck?” She screams. “What was that for?!”  
“Look, I am not interested in you,” I say bluntly. “I don’t appreciate being harassed.”  
“Harassed? Seriously?” Mary Jane says.  
“Yeah,” I say, “that’s what this is!”  
She gets up, brushes herself off and crosses her arms, sticking her ass out slightly like the harlot she is. “Men can’t be harassed, Eddie!”  
I suddenly go off on her, talking at great length that it’s sexist to assume that sexual harassment can’t go both ways and that men have feelings too and the like.  
Mary Jane stomps her feet and rushes from the classroom like a whirlwind, nearly ramming Mr. Jameson into the door frame on her way out.  
“You can deliver yourself right to the office Miss Watson!” he yells. He then looks at me. “I heard all that on my way in. Well said!”  
I blush from the positive attention.  
…

That night I lay in bed not really knowing how to feel. Everything just feels weird. I can't put my finger in it.  
Venom, sensing the tightness in my abdominal region, asks if it is ok.  
I answer very truthfully that I'm not.  
Venom oozes from my skin and actually starts nuzzling my upper half like a cat or something, before stretching out over my whole body, constricting against me like one of those comforting weighted blankets.  
In the middle of our snuggle time my phone vibrates. Venom reaches out with a tendril, grabs it, and hands it to me. I check and see that I've gotten a text from Peter Quill. His contact number is still labeled "Star Lord," I'll have to change that. He updated his profile picture with a selfie of his current outfit to get rid of the one Misty was using.  
“Hey,” he texts.  
“Hey,” I text back. “How was your day?”  
“Sucky. Yours?”  
“Same.”  
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”  
“No. Why?”  
“Well. I was hoping that maybe you could come over to my house and hang out. I was dealing with my own shit today, but I know that you were pretty emotionally invested in ‘me’ before. I was hoping maybe you could get to know the real me better. Besides, Misty was a slob and left my room a fucking mess and I could use some help tidying up.”  
“Yeah, I can help out.”  
He sends me a heart eyes emoji and I feel my cheeks warm.  
...

The next day I wake up around 10, when we agreed to meet, and throw some clothes on. I decide on a thick hoodie (the middle portion and drawstrings are grey, the hood is black, and the arms are red), jeans that have some bleach stains on them (though they still look presentable) knee high socks with llama patterns on them I like but haven't worn in a while, and a black Carhartt stocking cap.  
My steel toed work boots slap the wet earth as I walk out down the driveway to my truck. It's a rainy, misty drizzly day out. The moisture clings to my skin. The mist makes everything around a gaussian blur world of white, grey, and green.  
I am, admittedly, a little worried as I drive my noisy ass truck over to Peter’s place. I mean, this is the first time I'll have seen Peter's house before. It's always looked like crap from the outside… maybe it looks nicer inside?  
As I park my truck in the driveway a woman steps out from the front porch and looks my way. She is a chubby woman in her thirties wearing a black hoodie 3 times too small, fuzzy sleep pants with the Cheshire cat from Disney's Alice in Wonderland all over them, flip flops, and has her dyed purple hair in a messy bun.  
“Can I help you?” She calls, seeming annoyed.  
“I'm here to see Peter,” I say. “He wanted to hang out.”  
“Oh,” she says. She leans back into the front door. “Peter! Your boyfriend's here!”  
A few seconds later, Peter appears, looking embarrassed. He comes over to the truck. “Hey, sorry about my Mom.”  
“No, it's fine,” I say. “I was unaware we were dating,” I say with a wink.  
Peter chuckles and runs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess Misty did nothing but talk about you for the past month.”  
“She does seem to have a one track mind,” I say.  
I follow Peter inside and am immediately manslaughtered by the scent of weed. It hangs in the air and makes me gag slightly. He leads me through the house. It's small and a little crampy. Nothing seems to be very organized or put away. It's an old house filled with old junk I'd expect an old person to have.  
I notice an old skinny man sleeping in front of the TV.  
“That's Grandpa,” Peter says at regular volume. “He's like 80% deaf, so don't worry about waking him up or anything.”  
We pass through a tiny little space adjacent to the kitchen with a large TV and several chairs. In both chairs are two girls, one around 12, the other around 7. The 7 year old plays Roblox on the tv and the other scrolls through Tik Tok.  
“Hey sis,” Peter says quickly as we pass when the 12 year old looks up.  
“Hey,” she says, uninterested in me.  
Peter leads me towards the back of his house to his room. “I have to warn you in advance that it's a mess.” He opens the door and I am taken aback at just how much of a mess it is.  
Clothes are strewn all over in piles, at the edge of the room, on the furniture, everywhere. Trash, clothing tags, grocery bags, and packaging boxes are all over, laying in piles. Crumbs and detritus make the carpet literally crunchy.  
The room is filled with the rumble of an AC in the window and it's dark as the overhead lights apparently don't work.  
“Holy bitch tits, this is a mess,” I mumble.  
“Yeah,” Peter says flatly. “Misty got ahold of my social security checks and went wild ordering clothes and makeup.”  
“That sucks,” I mumble.  
“Yeah.”  
I'm tallying it all up and she will be paying you back in full,” I say.  
“How are you going to get her to do that?” Peter asks.  
“I'll devour her otherwise!” Venom says.  
Peter jumps. I forget that he is not as accustomed to Venom as myself and my friends.  
“Let's pile up the dirty clothes and get rid of the trash,” I say.  
I motion to a large box that something large, ordered off Amazon, came in. “Anything Misty bought you don't want put in there. She can have it back in exchange for whatever it's worth.”  
I drag my boot and shudder at the sound of the crunch it makes from all the crap in the carpets. “You have a vaccine?” I ask.  
“Yeah, downstairs.” 

“We'll need it,” I say.  
Peter takes care of the clothes while I pick up trash.  
Venom is useful as he reaches out with a dozen tendrils to grab multiple pieces of trash at once and dump them in the trash bag I hold with both hands.  
Peter looks up every now and then and watches in amazement.  
We end up stacking up 5 laundry baskets filled with clothing.  
Peter's washing machine is kind of shitty whereas my Dad’s is an industrial level piece that holds way more than Peter's can anyway. Usually he doesnt let it pile up this bad, but Misty didn't seem to care. I’ll be taking the baskets home to wash it and even offered to fold stuff, though he declined saying I’m been doing more than enough.  
As we work we talk. I answer the usual "get to meet you" questions I haven’t had to answer since my first week of school. Peter is super nice and listens well. I end up spilling a ton of shit, way beyond the normal stuff. I even mention that I'm here because my Mom committed suicide. I hadn't even had the strength to say that to my friends. Peter looks sad at that part of the story.  
He starts to tell me more about himself as well. He admits that he always considered himself a normal average Joe. He's not as neurotic as Misty’s version of him was. He just has an average cool guy affect to him that is pretty endearing. The way he tells personal stories, the way he grins and laughs, he's so laid back. I admit I do find him more interesting than Misty's version of him.  
The whole time we work, we listen to MCR and Blink 182. Peter's Mom was an early 2000s teen and as such that's what Peter grew up listening to.  
I hold the Amazon box as Peter throws things at it. There is a lot of makeup and merch to games he doesn't play and YouTubers he doesn't watch. Misty apparently went to Goodwill and had a field day buying a ton of women's clothes to fuel her nonbinary kick. The box is heaping with stuff to be gotten rid of by the time we're done.  
Peter breaks out the vacuum and I have a field day with the floor. That literal sucker gets rid of so much junk, loose cat litter from Peter's cat, Pudge (cause he's a very fat cat), dirt, the plastic tabby bits from new clothes, butterfly barrettes that got stepped on and broken, and even more. Though the vaccume does nothing but make that horrible grindy noises the entire time, the red carpeting is at least short and, as such, cleans up nicely. The plastic bagless collection piece the vaccine has is so satisfying to look at seeing at that stuff that used to be strewn across the floor all together in it. It's like a maroonish brown ice cream with colorful bits of plastic showing themselves like candy chips.  
We set up previously buried lamps and make the room look brighter and less dreary.  
It took literal hours to get the room sufficiently cleaned.  
Once we get everything set up we finally flop down on his bed - which is two twin size beds pushed together to make one king size.  
We watch Insatiable on Netflix to unwind. We both laugh and riff on it Mystery Science Theatre 3000 style. Thank God, Misty only got the idea to say she liked the show from Peter who actually does. Peter even has a couple pieces of MST3K merch from the nineties.  
As we are just starting the fifth episode in our Insatiable marathon, I suddenly get a call from Dad asking where I am. I tell him and he abruptly says he’s picking me up before hanging up, all in about the span of a few seconds. It leaves me blinking, wondering what the fuck just happened.  
In record time I hear a horn blaring in the driveway and, sure enough, it’s Dad.  
“I’m sorry for having to cut this short,” I say, genuinely upset and confused as to what Dad’s problem is.  
“What about your truck?” Peter asks. “If your dad is picking you up, what are you going to do about it?”  
I ponder a moment before handing him the keys. “Just drive it to school in the morning and don’t worry about the bus. It’ll be better for everyone.  
Peter is surprised but smiles. He gives me a quick hug before I go downstairs to the car.  
I get in and look over at Dad. He looks straight ahead at the road and says nothing. I start to shift uncomfortably in my seat as the silence goes on.  
Finally, Dad speaks.  
“How long have you two been hanging out?”  
“At Peter's house? This is the first time. We’re friends, if that’s what you mean. We’ve talked in the woods before and hang out at school and on the bus. Why?”  
“I'd prefer it if you didn’t spend your time with him,” Dad says.  
I just stare at him. “Why?” I demand, sounding more brash than intended.  
“Because I'm worried about your safety,” Dad says.  
“How so?”  
Dad sighs. “Eddie, you were there, you must've seen how that family is! How toxic and draining they are! Peter’s stepfather is not a good dude! I’ve had him in the station more times than I'd like to. Peter’s rap sheet isn’t the cleanest either. Eddie, I don't want you to get mixed up with the wrong crowd of people, you know? For all I know, Peter is a gateway to drugs, prostituation, and crime.”  
“Are you worried for my actual safety or just my reputation?” I ask.  
“Both,” Dad says simply.  
“Well, thanks for the consideration,” I say sarcastically, “but I’ll pass. I can make my own decisions, thank you.”  
Dad’s agreeable personality goes on hiatus as he says, “that wasn’t a request.”  
I glare daggers back at him. “Are you threatening me?”  
Dad lets out a groan of irritation. “For Christ's sake, Eddie, why are you talking about this so far? I’m your old man, I’m trying to look out for you!”  
“Oh? Really?” I say, the irrational side of my brain deciding to hit him where it hurts. “Like you did Mom when you left because ‘it would be better for her sanity.’ cause judging by her having goddamned hanged herself in the backyard I think it’s a job well fucking done!”  
I say this as we approach a stop sign and Dad stops the car abruptly, giving me a slight whiplash. “THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!” Dad suddenly yells, throwing off his seat belt and getting in my face.  
Immediately any sadistic smugness I had drained away and I sink low in my seat, ashamed.  
My words made him angry, obviously, but also cut deep. Tears run down his face and his jaw flutters.  
We are quiet for the rest of the car ride after that. Since I didn’t have a chance to eat at Peter's, Dad gets us both dinner via the local McDonald’s drive through where he then roughly shoves the bag into my hands.  
“When we get home, go eat in your room. I don’t want to see you until tomorrow afternoon when i get home from the gym.” After several beats he adds, “please,” to help ease the harshness.  
I guess we're both able to cut deep with our words.  
When we get home, as I walk upstairs to my room, I turn to dad and say, “I’m sorry. I’m REALLY sorry!” Tears well up as I don’t like conflict like this.  
Dad looks up and nods.”I’m sorry too.”  
And with that, we go our separate ways for the night.  
...

The next day, I have to get out of the house. I’m going insane being here; I’ll have a nervous breakdown if I stay any longer.  
I set my alarm for five in the morning to insure there was no way I could possibly run into Dad. He’s the reason I’m leaving in the first place, and I don’t want to so much as look at him.  
I scribble “B back soon, Ed” on a scrap piece of paper. Why get specific? It’s not as though I even know where I’m going in any case.  
I scramble to my car and drive off. I feel a little better as I drive, knowing I’m getting away from this conflict that has popped up between Dad and I.  
Finally, alone on my own. Unless Misty’s been sleeping in the backseat I think, bitterly.  
I drive in no particular direction, not caring, as long as I’m not sitting still. I drive on many old dirt roads that dead-end into nowhere for the longest time.  
One of them is a driveway I find. It leads to some huge four story log cabin style house in the middle of nowhere. There are people in the yard - odd considering the time of the morning - who look up at me as I pull up. I turn and leave without getting terribly close, assuming them to be drunk or something.  
It’s dark out still, the sun just barely rising. It actually looks kind of nice out, the crisp air, the cerulean tint to everything, the fog a purplish color in the poor light. Everything is silent, the animals and the wind, everything. I’m reminded just how beautiful this place really is. It was almost like it was when I had first arrived.  
I focus on that beauty as I drive, becoming one with the tint, the mist, the trees and the dirt roads. It’s peaceful and for a time I actually forget to be depressed.  
But, all good things come to an end. The sun eventually comes up, bringing with it a grey sky. By the time I’m back in town my poor mood had returned, full force.  
I stop by the local coffee shop, the Sugar Spoon, and buy an espresso. The awkward memory of my awful date with Quick Silver lingers and makes me cringe as I order.  
There’s an air freshener hanging from my truck’s rear view mirror. Peter Parker had been nice enough to put it up when fixing it up. It was a nice gesture, but it makes the whole vehicle smell strongly of formaldehyde.  
I drive to the town plaza and stop the truck. I tear the air freshener down. That thing is definitely going in the nearest trash can. I pitch the air freshener, take a deep breath, and find the nippy air quite refreshing.  
I stand for a moment, just breathing in the smell unique only to fresh cool air. I close my eyes, trying to let my mind go slack.  
I hear bells begin to ring and look over to see a church sitting across the plaza. It’s a gigantic building with a medieval look to it; natural grey bricks carefully placed to create intricate patterns, tall steeple, bell tower containing several bells carefully pulled to create a beautifully done melody.  
I’m not a religious person or anything, though I do remember what I was like going. Mom was religious - and maybe with her slew mental issues she had to be to keep herself together - and I went to mass with her often. I sometimes miss the certain scent that place had, of burning candles and incense and wine.  
I make my way over to the church, hoping to perhaps relive something from my past and take away from my frustrated misery.  
The greeter at the door shakes my hand and welcomes me in as though I’m a long lost old friend and not a total stranger he never knew existed until today. It’s nice to not be alienated.  
I’m amazed at the insides of the church. Wide fancy double doors open into a cavernous space, looking like a cathedral from some renaissance movie. The walls are beautifully decorated with elaborately painted paintings of the stations of the cross. The ceiling is of a blue sky with heavenly clouds painted onto it. The front of the church is glorious. A statue at least fifty feet tall stands, a castle with saints stationed about it, the kingdom of heaven. Directly over the castle hangs Jesus on the cross. The whole place is glorious and has a very authentic feel to it. It seems to be the rare church that managed to survive Vatican II.  
I walk up through the isles looking for a semi empty space, finding few and far between. Then I noticed a familiar face or rather the back of his head.  
Peter turns as I approached. He smiles and makes room for me next to him.  
“Hi Peter,” I whisper.  
“Hi Eddie. I didn’t know you were Catholic.”  
“Well I'm not actually,” I say. “You never mentioned you were.”  
“I’m not either, I just like being here.”  
I notice there’s a girl sitting next to Peter. I got a look at her and am taken aback. She’s maybe ten or eleven at the most. She’s tiny for her age, skinny as a rail with dark circles under her eyes like she hasn’t slept, or at least not much. Her hair is incredibly bushy. At first I’m just confused seeing her, but after a moment I detect similarities. She shares Peter’s pointy nose and facial structure.  
“Your, uh, sister?” I ask.  
Peter nods. “Her name is Beth Lynn.”  
Beth Lynn is staring off into space, unmoving, unsmiling, barely even blinking. She’s creeping me out. The expression on her face reminds me of that little kid from the movie Insidious.  
The priest walks in and mass begins. It’s a surprisingly good service, at least I assume, I don’t have that good a reference on such things. The priest has a lot to say and is very interesting to listen to.  
When the time comes to sing the hymns, I am surprised at what a good voice Peter has, low and even, like an opera singer.  
Beth Lynn is beyond creepy. She barely moves a muscle the whole time. She just stares off into space. She only stands and sits at the appropriate times because Peter has to pull her up on her feet, then force her back down into the pew.  
The hour ends and mass comes to a close. We walk out together. It’s a little awkward for me. I have no idea what to say or do.  
“Great service,” Peter says brightly. He’s holding Beth Lynn’s hand tightly, more or less guiding her, like a little kid’s pull toy.  
Beth Lynn pulls a heavily used Nintendo 2 DS from her coat pocket and tries playing it one handed. She fails miserably and only succeeds in dropping it onto the damp concrete of the parking lot.  
Peter scooped it up and holds it in his hand tightly, as though this is simply routine. Beth Lynn tries taking it from him, but Peter holds it out of her reach.  
“Not yet, ok? You’ll drop it again and break it like you did last time.”  
Beth Lynn doesn’t seem particularly interested. She just stares straight ahead without comprehending by the look of it, clenching and unclenching her free fist.  
She reminds me of one of those “special” students who always have special classes due to the fact they had mental and developmental problems. That’s probably what she has. I divert my attention away from her.  
“I guess the mass was ok,” I say, replying dully to Peter’s comment.  
He looks at me curiously. “Are you alright?”  
“Oh, I’m fine” I lie.  
Peter gives me an unconvinced look. “Yeah, I’m not buying it. What’s up?”  
I sigh. “It’s a long story.”  
Peter shrugs. “I’ve got time.”  
“How much?” I ask.  
He shrugs. “I’m free as air. If you want, we can get some lunch. Are burgers from the Sugar Spoon ok?”  
“Thank you,” I say. “That sounds nice.”  
Peter smiles. He’s one of those people with a nice smile. His eyes glow with an inner light, his perfectly straight teeth glinting briefly.  
“You know, I shouldn’t,” I say. “I shouldn’t be doing this with you.”  
“Really? Why?”  
“That’s why I’m upset,” I say. “We’ll talk about it later after we get our food, I’m not up to it at the moment.”  
I drive the three of us to the Sugar Spoon. It takes only ten minutes at the most, but would have been far longer on foot.  
Beth Lynn has her DS returned and is playing something. Whatever it is, from the sounds coming from the speaker, it’s bloody and violent. Not something I would allow a mentally retarded girl to play, were it my decision.  
The Sugar Spoon is busy by the time we arrive. It seems to be the town’s hot spot for weekend fast food. The interior is pleasant, with brick walls with alternate walls painted robin’s egg blue, seventies style glossy black painted lamps that hang over each table and booth, and has a clean and cheery feel to it.  
I order a single burger while Peter orders two and a large milkshake. I wonder where he’s possibly going to store it in his lean body. “A hollow leg” as my mother would say.  
Beth Lynn is zoned out in her game and the noise of it attracts attention. Peter takes it from her. She just stands there a moment, hands still miming the shape of the DS, then starts moving her thumbs as though still playing.  
She is ordered a children’s meal consisting of tiny portions of chicken nuggets, chocolate milk and a handful of fries. That seemed awfully skimpy even to me.  
The pleasant woman at the counter gives Beth Lynn an avoiding look.  
After receiving our food and drinks we seat ourselves in a booth.  
Peter rubs his hands together with an eager sigh. “I love it here.” He looks around, taking everything in as he speaks.  
“Mom, Dad and I used to come in here all the time after church. It was like a family tradition for us.” He smiles though his face falls a few seconds later. “At least it was before Dad split and Mom married my current Step-douche.” He looks suddenly empty, but shakes his head, his old smile returning. “But hey, you probably don’t want to hear about all that.” He unwraps a burger and takes a bite. “So what’s up?”  
I explain the fight the two of us had and how it didn’t really do anything except make us both guilty and miserable.  
“He is going through a really rough time,” Peter says when I’m done. “I mean, he barely knows you and is trying to Dad-Father you without having any frame of reference to do so. And he’s probably worried since the first week you were here you made friends with a homophobe and almost had your face ripped off. It’s gotta suck for him, you know?”  
“Yeah” I say, suddenly interested in the grey fake-marble tabletop.  
“I’ve met him once,” Peter says. “You know, when Gwen got that ‘talking to’ after she egged his car.”  
“Wait, WHAT?! She did that? Why?”  
“Mary Jane pressured her into doing it as revenge, like the bitch she is. Harry Osborne was busted for smoking weed and drinking while driving home from one of her wild parties. Gwen won’t even go near the Sheriff now.”  
“God. Mary Jane's such a cunt eater,” I mutter.  
“Anyway, Your Dad’s a very impressionable person. I think that he’s been unintentionally passing on his own feelings to you. He’s depressed and you get depressed too.”  
Peter is an interesting talker.  
“I get the feeling there’s something else,” Peter says. “You don’t like talking about your old home much, I’ve noticed. You’ve mentioned your Mom a few times, but haven’t talked about her a lot at all. How come?”  
“Is this an interrogation?” I ask, a little too snippily.  
“What? No, I’m just pointing that out.”  
I sighed and go on to tell Peter all about Mom, her issues, Dad’s divorce, and Mom’s suicide that I had to wake up to one morning. He listens, chewing his food carefully so as not to miss anything. His eyes widen as I near the end of my depressing story.  
“Whew, that’s not quite what I expected,” Peter says.  
“Yeah I mutter. My life is really ironic. I get sent here because my Mother killed herself and I came to a town where the first person I talked to in the whole school and his whole family got their guts ripped out. I guess I’m the bringer of death.”  
Peter is quiet for a time. “You know; I think your Dad just wanted what was best for you,” he says finally.  
“Oh?” I said.  
Peter nods. “Yeah, I do. Parents get like that. Their kids meet people and it’s the natural thing to want to sniff out the bad suitors and get them away from said child.”  
“But he’s being irrational about it,” I say.  
“No, I think he’s perfectly within his right to think I’m a piece of shit,” Peter says with a chuckle that tries to come off as jokey but isn’t remotely convincing. “My whole family is trash.”  
“It doesn’t matter what your family is. It matters what YOU are. And YOu are such a cool and amazing person and don’t deserve to be treated like shit because of Step-Douche.”  
Peter was looking at me with obvious pity. I’m surprised. Was he actually caring about my feelings? Peter had taken a personality turnaround. He’d gone from class clown to Mr. Feel good. I liked it, a good balance.  
“I guess everything’s been piling up,” I say.  
“I think you just need a way to channel it,” he says. “You’re not in any clubs or sports, perhaps that would help.”  
I give him a weird look.  
“What?” He asks.  
“You’re getting weird.”  
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t freaking you out or anything, was I?”  
“Uh, you were.”  
“Freaking out how?”  
“Like, stalker freaking out,” I admit. I mimic a growling man’s voice. “Hey what you need is an extracurricular activity, it’ll make watching you constantly easier!”  
We both laugh.  
“Well, I can assure you I’m not a stalker, '' Jacob says. “I will tell you this though, if you ever catch me in your room rifling through your underwear drawer and drooling, I give you full permission to reclassify me.”  
I laugh harder. “There’s the Jacob we all know and love!” I say.  
It’s amazing how Peter can lighten a mood. Just being with him like this is making me feel better. Thank God he can be serious and goofy at the same time.  
We pause for a time, just eating, reveling in the lightened mood.  
Peter suddenly asks me a rather unexpected question. “So Bella, have you fallen for anyone at school?”  
I am taken aback by the out of nowhere bluntness of the question.  
We discuss and I mention a couple guys we go to school with I find attractive.  
One of them I mention is Johnathon “Johnny” Blaze.  
“Really?” Peter says. You’re attracted to a guy who likes people to call him ‘Ghost Rider’ just because he wears a leather jacket and rides a motorcycle?”  
“Come on, he’s hot, who wouldn’t want to fuck him?”  
“Well, uh, me for one,” Peter says. “I mean he’s cute and all, but let's be honest with ourselves, he’s a total cock hole.”  
“So you're telling me you don’t want to ride a bad boy?” I ask jokingly, grinning.  
“Oh certainly not” Peter says. “I’m more of a just-lay-there-In-a-daze, kind of guy.”  
We both burst out laughing all over again.  
“Ok, ok now we really are getting too weird!” I gasp.  
We both laugh even harder.  
“Sorry, just couldn’t help it.” Peter says after most of the laughter has escaped us.  
Suddenly, Beth Lynn starts laughing uncontrollably. After a moment she says, “I love to laugh!” Like a six year old versus the middle schooler she actually is.  
I had forgotten she was even there. This is the first time I had ever even heard her speak. She grins toothily.  
Peter jumps too before quickly calming. “You haven’t even touched your food,” he says to her.  
Beth Lynn just grins weirdly.  
Peter opens the nugget box. He looks annoyed. “Here” he says, picking up a nugget. “Come on Lilly, you know you’re hungry” he said as though talking to a toddler. “munchie, munchie!”  
The goofy grin vanishes. Beth Lynn squints her eyes. Her face becomes hard and sour. She holds up two fingers. At first I think she’s making a peace sign, but when she raises her fingers before her mouth I realize she’s smoking an imaginary cigar. The way she holds said imaginary cigar between her fingers, it’s like something from a gangster movie.  
“Look” she says, her voice now low and scratchy sounding. “The girl’s not hungry. Ok?”  
Peter says. “She to eat” he said, not fazed by Beth Lynn’s behavior at all.  
Beth Lynn waves him off. “Eh, she doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. Do us all a big favor and take a long walk off a short pier.” Beth Lynn’s face slackens, becoming blank again. She goes back to her game without another word.  
I stare in disbelief. “What was that?”  
Peter sighs. “Beth Lynn has several severe mental issues. She has multiple personality disorders, and most likely some schizophrenia.”  
“Really?” I ask. “I read somewhere that that’s not even real.”  
Peter shrugs. “I know, but that’s the closest thing that it can be classified as. As far as we know, she has five distinct personalities. The first one, the one she is normally in is her own. That personality doesn’t speak much and is highly autistic.”  
“Wait, she’s autistic too?” I ask.  
“Only one personality,” Peter says. “It’s been studied that patients with the supposed multiple personality disorder had bizarre health and mental issues. Each personality behaved like another real person in that fashion; blood pressure, IQ levels, even diabetes. In this case, the issue is autism.”  
“That’s incredible,” I say. So, what personality did we just see, the one that ‘likes to laugh?’”  
“That’s Lilly,” Peter says, making a face as he says it. “She’s a happy, ‘innocent’ little girl. She’s perky, cute and utterly annoying. She mostly pops up whenever Beth Lynn is really happy, or whenever she wants something. The other one you saw is a guy she calls George. From what we’ve observed, he’s an old tough guy from somewhere in New York City. The way he talks and the cigar, some of the references he makes, we guess he’s from the thirties. Beth Lynn’s psychologist is utterly baffled as to how she possibly gained enough information to have created him, or for what purpose. George is fond of both Beth Lynn herself and Lilly. he’s always popping up when they are threatened and tries to protect them. The fourth is a guy she named Franklin.” Peter shakes his head. “When he pops up, she becomes a certified genius. She can do complicated algebraic equations, read encyclopedias and understand perfectly, even play the piano. Sometimes he’ll pop up when I’m doing my homework, she’ll actually do it for me. He’s the only reason I’m passing trig.” Peter hesitates. “The last one she calls Frank. Just Frank. Believe me, she’s scary when he pops up. We aren’t quite sure who or what he’s supposed to be. He pops up when she’s really upset, or really angry, or sometimes just out of the blue. She’ll start screaming and swearing and throwing things, totally out of control.”  
I stare at Beth Lynn, fixating blankly at her blipping DS. “That’s the only thing she really connects to,” Peter says.  
“It’s incredible she can have crammed so many people into herself” I say.  
“I know, right?”  
“How long has she been like that?”  
“Since forever. She always acted weird as a toddler, but we never thought much of it, she was a toddler after all. But, as she got older we began to realize something just was just not right.”  
“I’m sorry,” I say.  
Peter waves my apologies off. “Hey, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. I’m sure that God has a reason for all this.”  
I down the last of my Coke. “Thanks for lunch,” I say.  
“No problem. Hey, if you don’t want to go home just yet, maybe we can hang out or something.”  
“I’d like that,” I say. “If you thought for one second I wanted to go home, you are sadly mistaken.” I breathe in deep, stretched and sighed. “Thank you again for the talk.”  
“Any time,” Peter says.  
“So, what should we do?” I ask.  
“Well, I mean, we don’t have to do anything. Beth and I can just go home, if you’re not supposed to be hanging out with me -”  
“Dad can go suck twenty dicks,” I say.  
“Um, ok. In that case, we have Just Dance on our Wii back home” Peter offers.  
“Sounds great. Maybe we can pick up Gwen and Scott on the way.”  
“Sure, I love hanging out with them.”  
“I’m glad to hear that, Misty sure didn’t when she was pretending to be you. I’ll text them.”  
Peter tosses Beth Lynn’s uneaten lunch in a bag. “I guess that’ll have to be your dinner. Thank the man who invented the microwave.” He turns to me. “Could you watch Beth Lynn a moment? I’ve got to give birth to a terrorist.”

LUCAS, AN: Um… is this like racist? I feel like that line might be racist? Like, maybe try not to get yourself cancelled, Willow?

“Uh, yeah, good luck with that,” I say.  
Beth Lynn is still sitting unaware of a thing at the table.  
Peter leaves, and I stand by the table leaned against the wall and Text the others to see if they’re available.  
I put in my earbuds and play Enya. This is the perfect time for her. I closed my eyes and whisked away to a distant, beautiful place. I’m listening to her song The River Sings, one of my favorites by her.  
Between my phone checking and my zoning out, I had only left Beth Lynn without a watching eye for a short time. When I glance over at her, my mouth drops open. I’m astounded. She’d gone through my purse, pulled out my multicolor Bic click pen, a pencil, and a few pieces of paper - some with stuff already on them and some not. They’re full of color now. She is currently scribbling on one.  
I pick up the sheets and am shocked further. I expected childish caveman type drawings, not what I see before me. Beth Lynn’s drawn some of the most in depth pieces I’ve ever seen. Completely realistic, proper shading, three dimensional, it’s incredible. I stare at the few pictures she’s drawn. They’re all strange in their own ways. One is of a weird looking humanoid creature with a dog head and bat wings, overly realistic looking. Another is of a pistol, a hand holding the trigger, ready to fire. The third picture after that is a framed headshot of a girl with pigtails, a terrified look on her face. She signs each “Nemesis.”

LUCAS, AN: Wait, is this a half baked reference to “Petey” from the Gone novels? What kind of half baked YA monstrosity was this piece you sent me before changing the names?

Peter returns and looks just as flabbergasted as I am. “Franklin,” he says. “I forgot to mention she does this a lot when he pops up.”  
“What does ‘Nemesis’ mean?” I ask.  
“It’s what the main character of her DS game is named. I guess her autism kinda twisted her own identity into his. She signs everything like that. It confuses the shit out of teachers when they first meet her.”  
Peter pulled the pictures away from Beth Lynn.  
“I hope none of these were important” he says, flipping them over looking at the text sides of them.  
“They weren't,” I say.  
I’m looking at Beth Lynn, a tad disturbed by her behavior.  
“Don’t worry,” Beth Lynn says. “Things will get better!”  
Lily vanishes, replaced by the real Beth Lynn. She picks up her game and plays once more as if nothing had ever happened.  
…

Gwen and Scott both respond to my texts and say they’re available. I come by in my truck and pick them all up.  
It warms my heart to see them react positively towards Star Lord, genuinely happy to see him, despite how Misty made him come across.  
We arrive at Peter's house and walk in to see his mom watching TV with Riley while blatantly smoking weed. It takes me a second to realize but Riley is smoking WITH her. Riley’s like, thirteen, I don’t think that’s a healthy age to be smoking. Granted, it’s not like she’s smoking crack or anything, but still…  
Peter's Mom looks up at us and smiles. “Oh, Peter. I didn’t know you had friends, I'm so happy for you!”  
“Thanks, Mom,” he mutters. “We’ll be in my room.”  
We all go upstairs to leave Beth Lynn downstairs to play Roblox on the TV with her siblings.  
Peter rummages around for the Just Dance Wii game.  
I mention Mary Jane's party as the title, Just Dance, reminded me it even existed. In the chaos of Misty’s betrayal I’d completely forgotten about it.  
Gwen wrinkles her nose. “Seriously? Why is she so insistent on being with you?”  
“It’s because he’s so fucking hot,” Peter says without a hinto of sarcasm, making me blush.  
“I find him attractive as well,” Venom says out loud. “We had sex before and I can say he’s definitely worth it!”  
The others stare at me and I blush even more. “Anyway…” I mutter.  
“Good thing you’re not going, right?” Scott says. “I mean, I assume you’re not interested.”  
Gwen suddenly gasps. “Wait a minute, I just remembered something!” She pulls her phone from her pocket and brings up her YouTube favorites playlist. “While I was researching last night, an update on the ‘mysterious killer’ saga was on the news. The snippet was posted to the local news channel’s YouTube page.” She taps the video and lets it play for us.  
“This is the second batch of victims to fall prey to the ‘slasher beast’ as the public has dubbed the animal,” The news anchorman says. “The attack was in the national park and camping grounds just outside of Marvel Falls. We have pictures taken of the scene. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.”  
As the news anchor said this, the screen shows pictures taken at the scene. We all gasp. There are two bodies, their faces were clawed right off, limbs shattered, innards gone, a gaping hole left in each chest. One of them has its jawbone nearly broken clean off, all the teeth gone on the top and bottom jaw, forehead crushed in slightly. In horror I realize this is the result of a slap, a backhand of incredible and uncontrolled strength. Both bodies are propped up in folding camping chairs, similar to how we found the Parker Family.  
“The victims were found just this morning by Billy Wright, a friend of the victims,” The anchor continued. “The two victims’ names were Jonathan Jackson and Lily James. The three friends were on a camping excursion. Chief Ranger Katlyn Rodd has issued a warning. This animal, species yet to be decided, is possibly rabid and increasingly dangerous. If you see such a beast, do not under any circumstances approach. Call the rangers station immediately.”  
“So,” Gwen says, putting her phone to sleep, “it’s actually not that far from Mary Jane's dad’s cabin. It borders directly on national forest.”  
“You think Carnage will try crashing the party?” Scott asks.  
“Most definitely,” Venom says. “He’s been biding his time, growing in strength. He released a symbiote in the town area and it was stopped by us. Food combined with a large gathering of potential hosts, all together and away from an intervening police force as well as us? How could he resist? He’ll be there.”  
“This party is when?” Gwen asks.  
“Saturday, dusk till dawn,” I say.  
“You think if you laid it on sweet, you could get us in as well?” Gwen asks.  
“Probably,” I say.  
“Good,” Gwen says. She points to all of us. “Be sure to bring your suits when Eddie picks us up, we’ll need them!”  
“Aha!” Peter says, pulling the game from a pile in his closet he and I didn't get to yesterday. “Might as well celebrate this good timing with a good game! Get your dance shoes on everybody! “  
…

The next day things go off without a hitch.  
I ask Mary Jane if the others can go to the party with me and, while she doesn’t seem thrilled, agrees. She says she’s so excited for this weekend since I’m going to be there and slides in next to me, snuggling against my chest in a way that makes both Venom and I very uncomfortable.  
I was lucky yesterday that Dad thought I was just hanging out with Gwen and Scott. I conveniently forgot to mention it was with Peter at his house.  
Tonight, he specifically calls me and says he has to work late. Since those two murdered campers were killed so close to town he has been the one on the case. The police are being brought in because the murders don’t look entirely like animal mauling and think foul play may have been taking place. To that, I think, “no shit,” as we say goodbye and hang up.  
As the school bus brings Peter and I home, I, out of the blue, ask Peter if he wants to hang out. I don’t feel like going home and being alone, I want to be with someone. Peter is a little shocked and a little wary. However, after I flash my puppy dog eyes, he agrees.  
I get off with Peter at his stop. The bus driver is some high school flunkie and accepts my twenty dollar bribe to let me off with Peter.  
We walk through the front door and are immediately bombarded by several dogs. One of them, a dog that honestly resembles a dingo, wags its tail and jumps on me.  
“AAAHHH!” I yell.  
“Oh, relax, it’s just princess, she’s fine,” Peter says. “Be careful, she likes giving kisses and will bop you in the face with her snout if you’re not careful.”  
I try to gently get her off me.  
“Just give her a good shove,” Peter says. He places his hand on her shoulder and pushes hard. She lands on her side on the floor with a loud thud.  
I gasp, but she just gets up and prances around with her tail wagging as though nothing happened.  
“Remember your shoes,” Peter says. “Mom gets wicked crazy if you don’t take them off. It’s literally the ONLY thing she puts her foot down on.”  
We get in and I see his two sisters, RIley and Beth Lynn, sitting on the couch in the little area adjacent to the kitchen.  
Riley is on her phone - an out of date device that looks as though it “survived” a nuclear blast - scrolling through her socials and Beth Lynn is playing Roblox, just as she did when I came last time.  
“Hey bitch,” Riley says to Peter without looking up.  
“Hey, shitface,” Peter replies. This must be a regular thing between these two.  
Riley glances up and sees me. “Oh, hi,” she says. There is a brief look of admiration before she glares at Peter. “Mom’s going to be pissed you brought a friend home on a school night.”  
“I assure you, I can get home fine,” I say. “I’m a runner.” My house is a thirty minute / 1 mile drive from here, so it’s not that unreasonable a statement.  
Peter rummages around in the fridge. “Where’s the food?” He demands.  
“You honestly think Step-Douche would leave anything in there?” Riley says, scoffing. “He ate it all before he left.”  
“There were two packs of lunch meat and half a pizza left, that was going to be dinner,” Peter mutters.  
“He ate ALL of THAT?” I say, shocked.  
“Of course he did,” Peter says. “If he eats it, it means we won’t ‘steal it from him.’”  
“What Kind of logic is that?” I ask.  
“Non-logic,” Peter says. “He’s a prick, pure and simple.” He turns to Riley, annoyed. “Why didn’t you call me and tell me? Eddie left his truck at the school so he could ride home with me, we could have picked something up on our way!”  
“You think I would ever call you?” Riley laughs. “I hate you more than anyone else does!”  
“Shut up, Ry!” Peter snaps.  
“GO TO HELL!” Riley screams. She cranks the volume of her bluetooth speaker up to deafening levels. It’s rap music, and not even the good kind, the kind that is nothing but obscenities and innuendos and morbid imagery.  
“Ed, we’re out of here!” Peter bellows over the noise. He tosses me a cheap soda and I follow him upstairs to his room.  
“So…” I say after the door is closed, “she’s kind of the worst.”  
“Yeah,” he says.  
“She dresses kind of cheap,” I say.  
“Yeah, she’s the family tramp,” Peter says matter of factly.  
It still blows my mind how Peter’s room is the best looking place in the house, which isn’t saying much, since everything looks like a thrift store or roadside find.  
“Make yourself cozy,” Peter says.  
I sit down, uncomfortably.  
The second dog, Tank, makes himself cozy with his head in my lap and falls asleep, snoring logs, sitting up.  
Princess is hyper as hell and flops like a dead fish on Peter’s bed until he manages to keep her still for a few moments and cooes and pets her into calmness.  
We talk for a little bit and I start to get comfortable. That comfort shatters when the front door suddenly slams hard followed by loud yelling.  
Peter groans. “Fuck!” He mutters. “I hoped he was working late tonight!”  
“You’re Stepdad?”  
“Yeah.”  
there’s the sound of heavy boots stomping up the squeaky steps upstairs. We brace ourselves as the door suddenly bursts open. It swings open so sharp and fluid the doorknob bashes into and goes right through the drywall.  
Both dogs yelp and go nuts, barking and running around.  
I am terrified of the huge man standing in front of us and shy away behind a large pillow Peter has on his bed.  
“I need money,” Step-Douche says, expectantly.  
“Don’t have any,” Peter says, flatly.  
“What do you mean you don’t have any? How’d you buy more shit for your little queer collection over?”  
“Stole it from Riley, she has more money than I do,” Peter lies. “And that was a phase, a phase that’s over. You want money, go fuck Riley up.”  
“I ain’t gonna do that!” Step-Douche says, “I have standards!”  
Based on the prison tattoos that cover his skin, he must not have MANY standards.  
“YOU owe ME money, anyway,” Peter says.  
“I PAID YOU OFF!” He yells.  
“No, you didn’t,” Peter says evenly.  
Step-Douche snarls and goes over to Peter’s dressers and starts rifling through the drawers.  
“Get out of my room!” Peter yells, jumping up. “NOW.”  
“Give me your money, it’s not like you need it.”  
“Not like your trailer trash little honey I regret to call my mother needs another useless piece of shit,” Peter fires back.  
Step-Douche ignores him and keeps looking. He goes, “AHA!” when he finds a ziplock bag. He pulls it out and finds it’s half filled with loose change that might equal five bucks. He quivers with anger.  
“L. E. A. V. E.” Peter snarls through gritted teeth.  
Step-Douche turns abruptly, throwing the bag hard over his shoulder with severe rage. It hits the ceiling with such force it explodes, sending coins everywhere. I gasp when several hit a lamp near his bed and shatter the base. The rest falls and shatters irreversibly, leaving half the room dark.  
Peter breaths deep and hard, shoulders tense as he gets up and goes over to the door to close and lock it.  
He closes it just as the shrill and half angry half terrified voices of Riley travel upstairs.  
Peter takes a very sharp breath and turns. “You can see why I needed a new lamp.”  
…  
The week goes by fairly uneventfully. It’s mostly us just waiting in anticipation for Saturday when we can hopefully end Carnage and his reign of terror on the Marvel Falls area.  
Tomorrow is the party. I can’t pay attention in class as that’s all I'm thinking of. A mix of anticipation and dread fills me. On one hand I’m terrified, but on the other, I want a reason to be violent and Kick some ass. Beating the shit out of QuickSilver and his goons was fun, but my more animalistic side wants a real challenge!  
I get home and, not even an hour later, Peter texts me, very annoyed.  
Apparently his Grandmother really wants to see him. She needs help both cleaning her house and just having some company.  
She’s kind of senile and only considers him her grandchild as he was the child of his Mother’s first husband, the only man his Grandmother ever approved of.  
He really doesn’t want to go there alone and have to deal with “her senile ass,” as he puts it, all day. I text him back and agree to go.  
I drive over and pick him up shortly after our text conversation. We drive across town to her house, park on the curb, and walk up the very short driveway to her house. We had to park on the curb as she has no garage and the driveway is so small it only fits her tiny antique car.  
It’s a nice house, the postage stamp sized yard and the flower beds bordering the house are immaculately cared for. She has a bunch of tacky lawn ornaments placed all over everywhere as her “old lady mark.”  
Peter lets out a little groan as he knocks on the door.  
Immediately we heard the yapping of lap dogs and in a few seconds the door opens.  
“GRANDSON! Peter’s Grandmother squees and hugs him. “Oh how I’ve missed you!” She says, pinching his cheeks. She may be old, but she’s perky.  
Her yapping dogs, three black Scottish terriers, jump and paw and bark incessantly.  
She turns to me. “You must be the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about.”  
“Oh, we’re just friends -”  
She gives me a hug as well. “Oh, please,” she says, “I don’t care who my little Petey is with, as long as he’s happy!”  
I hug her back, hoping not to crush her fragile body like a bug.  
She pulls back and waves us into the house after her.  
“Petey?” I say as and follow her, tripping over her little terriers the whole time.  
We sit down in the living room to talk.  
“So, Petey, how is that balding, cocky, irresponsible man-child of a Stepfather treating you?”  
“Bad, same as always.”  
His Grandmother rolls her eyes. “I swear, Marylin has the worst taste in men,” she mutters.  
We talk a little bit more and it’s just as awkward as before.  
“Are either of you hungry?” She says.  
“We’re good,” Peter says.  
“Oh, I don’t believe that, you’re both skin and bones. I’ll go make you both a grilled cheese sandwich and then we can play some Scrabble!”  
We both put on false smiles that probably look like we’re grimacing with pain versus being happy. She seems to buy it though.  
“Well, you just eat some of that candy there,” she says motioning to a bowl on the coffee table in front of us. “That’ll tide you over till I’m done, there’s no way I can eat it all myself!” She hobbles away into the kitchen.  
Peter sighs deeply. “So not cool,” he mutters.  
We glance at the candy bowl.  
“Blech, you really want any of that?” Peter asks. “It’s probably been there since the dawn of time.”  
“No, but she’ll probably think we’re insolent or something,” I say.  
“Yeah, you’re right,” Peter says, sighing again.  
We both take a piece of candy from the bowl and pop it in our mouths. There is an issue immediately upon the first crunch. It rattles inside my skull and makes my skin crawl. We both look at each other, wide eyed. Our moths immediately scream with pain and we let our jaws drop slightly. A cascade of red waterfalls down our chins. Peter’s Grandmother returns to find us bleeding all over ourselves and shuddering in extreme pain like extras in a zombie apocalypse movie.  
She gasps. “What in the sam hell are you doing?!” She yells in horror. “That’s my collection of antique glass beads! THAT’S the candy bowl!” She says motioning further down the table at a bowl of candy hearts and butter scotches that I didn’t even notice.  
“Too late to reschedule?” Peter squeaks.  
Apparently, yes.  
We manage to get all the glass shards out of our tongues with the use of a flashlight and tweezers and gargle thoroughly with mouthwash - a very unpleasant experience. We stuff our faces with cotton balls until the bleeding finally subsides. The sound of wet cotton balls against teeth is enough to make me gag.  
Thankfully, Peter’s Grandmother is cool with several of her “prize beads” being accidentally chewed. “That’ll learn ya!” Is all she said in response. Thank god we didn’t swallow.  
We help her putter around the house and do menial tasks until dinner where the heat and tang from the spaghetti she makes nearly sends us through the roof. As the sun starts to get low she finally allows us to leave with a smile, a hug, and a wave goodbye as we pull away.  
“Well, I learned something at least,” Peter mutters, slumping down in his seat.  
“Yeah?”  
“The candy bowl is on the left. And never go over there again if at all possible.”  
To try and cheer us up by running through my playlist of songs. We start with Hailee Steinfeld and Florida Georgia Line’s “Let Me Go” go, through “Clarity” by Zedd and Foxes, “Forest” by Twenty One Pilots, “Setting Fires” by The Chainsmokers and Xylo, and end on Cindi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” It does lighten our mood, just a little, as we sing along with them off key and badly.  
I drop Peter off at his house and return home myself.  
Dad greets me and immediately freaks out when he sees that I have a huge bloody stain all down the front of me.  
“I’m fine, don’t ask,” I say simply as I immediately go upstairs to my room.  
I probably should take a shower but I’m just so done with today I don’t care.  
I strip down to my underwear and crawl into bed.  
My mouth hurts, I have a headache, and my brain is so overloaded with information that whenever I close my eyes it’s like a Loony Tunes of flashing images as my brain tries to process.  
I press my pillow over my face.  
Every sound is like Nikki Manaj’s “Stupid Hoe” being blasted into my eardrums.  
I try to think of something to relieve my annoyance and, of course, the first thing that pops into my head is Peter Quill.  
My gut clenches and my boxers start to feel too tight. This is simply not right. I shouldn’t feel this way. He’s cool with me being gay but he’s not the same as me, I get the feeling. I don’t think he’ll ever feel the same way about me as I do him. How could he?  
I feel perverted that I have fantasies about him sometimes as I fall asleep. It’s annoying, it’s creepy! Am I technically a pervert if they’re just thoughts? Does everyone secretly do that? I haven’t ever asked anyone else. Has anyone fantasized about me - besides Misty?  
These are the thoughts that fill my head as I fall asleep and begin to dream.  
…

It’s late at night.  
I sit with Peter in his room, freshly cleaned.  
It’s nice how personalized and safe his room feels, unlike mine, which feels impersonal and borrowed.  
He sits on the bed and I sit on the floor on a beanbag chair in front of the bed, a few inches away.  
We sit and try in vain to get the TV to work. Netflix refuses to work, it just sits and buffers externally. Finally, we give up and turn the TV off, tossing the remotes to the floor.  
I sigh deeply. “So, now what?” I look over at Peter. Perfect, perfect Peter…  
A light sits in the corner of the room and illuminates the side of his face, the shadows and highlights looking magical.  
The glow of the old lightbulbs in his lamps give the room a warm and seductive feeling to it.  
He takes a long drag off his freshly rolled joint and exhales, letting the marajuana clouds billow like a sideways smokestack.  
He’s wearing nothing but a tank top and dark green shorts with a pretty paisley pattern in a lighter color all over them that reveal a lot of leg. He sits cross legged in the bed, his muscles naturally on display. He looks over at me, a cool and almost seductive grin on his face. The purple colored lightbulbs in the lamp across the room in front of us glint off his white teeth like a roller disco.  
“I think… I think I know how to pass the time!” Hesays and gets to his hands and knees on the bed and closes the space between us.  
He kisses me, the feel of his face pressing down on me making me feel small and under control - in a good way.  
He grips the back of my head with a strong hand. I can hear his many gold bracelets inkling in my ear. He pulls me gently close as he kisses me, hard. Every kiss is firm and domineering and very much in control.  
My heart beats so fast, I feel like I’m running a marathon.  
My pants feel WAY too tight! My toes, inside the crew cut white socks I’m wearing, curl in excitement.  
Peter’s other hand begins to roam and I realize he’s lifting my shirt.  
I’m wearing a charcoal shirt with the Punisher logo on it I bought at Hot Topic back during our shopping spree, and yellow shorts.  
I raise my arms and he fully pulls it off and tosses it away.  
I feel exposed in an awkward way for a few seconds, though the excitement nulls any embarrassment I could have.  
Peter’s breathing gets deeper, clearly excited. He runs his hand over my rippling chest, his fingers taking in every detail of my body.  
He begins kissing me again as he begins toying with my nipples, making me giggle a little, which makes him giggle as well.  
The rational side of my brain weakly tries to recall the stuff we learned in sex-ed class but is quickly thrown out the window by my horniness.  
He squeezes one of my nipples particularly hard, making me whimper. By the way he lets out a little “oooh” upon hearing it, I can tell he enjoys the beautiful discomfort.  
“I love the sound you make when you want it!” Peter cooes softly.  
With one final tonguey kiss he gets up. His hips sway a little, clearly at ease and somewhat unstable from the copious amounts of weed, as he sensually peels off his shirt and kicks away his shorts in exile. Holy shit his abs… thy flex and bulge without him even trying to.  
He gets down on the floor in front of me. He grips the elastic waistband of my shorts and pulls them off.  
Both of our cocks are as stiff as flagpoles - you could let the American Flag fly on them, they're so rigid!  
Peter kisses my neck and keeps kissing down lower, lower, and lower. His tongue hangs out like a dog. He has a grin on his face, his eyes focused on mine. He lowers his mouth to my cock -  
I gasp as a rush of stimulus in my nether regions makes me come right out of my deep sleep and - more importantly - my dream.  
I reach down and immediately my hand becomes slick with semen.  
I sigh in defeated irritation and let my head fall back to the pillow.  
I prematurely ejaculated during a WET DREAM? This day truly sucks!


	13. The Party [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and the gang go to Mary Jane's party and lay in wait for Carnage's inevitable arrival.

I do my best to pick out a stylish outfit. I know that the party is nothing more than a mission, but still, I don’t want to look like a complete schlub.  
I decide to grab something kind of formal, a button down baby blue shirt, a pair of tan slacks, dress socks, and a pair of light brown leather dress shoes. I comb my hair back and find I look like a choir boy - or choir man, thanks to my beard.  
Venom comments that I look good but I’ve come to realize that he’s like a mother and will say you look good even if, in fact, you look like shit.  
I grab my Adidas backpack and dump out all my school stuff and replace them with my super suit. Hopefully, we’ll have enough time to get suited and protect our identities when Carnage shows up.  
I go and collect the others and they have their own suits in their own backpacks.  
I notice Scott’s is bulkier than ours. He explains that Ultron finally finished designing us some mini flamethrowers and freeze rays. He redistributes them to the rest of our backpacks while I drive.  
I am shocked how far out Mary Jane’s Dad’s cabin is from town. It’s a long drive, up the mountain no less, to get there. But, it’s grandness is worth the trip.  
When Mary Jane said “cabin” I didn’t think she meant “huge full fledged three story mansion,” which is what it is. Lots of windows, lots of fancy woodwork on the outside, and an immaculate yard - THIS “CABIN” HAS A YARD! The place is lit up like the fourth of july. Colored lights flash, music blares - the bass pounding in my ears - and the whoops and giggles of drunk high schoolers can be heard outside in what I presume to be the backyard of the cabin, not visible from the front.  
The driveway and lawn are packed with with cars and it’s a challenge to find a place to park.  
We approach the house and knock on the door. Mary Jane answers seconds later, as though she were waiting on the other side just for me. As weird as she is, maybe that’s what she was doing, who knows?  
“You’re here!” She squeals and hugs me round the middle. “Come on in, please, it’s a hell of a party and it just got better because you’re here!”  
“Um, thanks?” I say.  
Suddenly, Quick Silver is at our sides.  
“Hi,” he says with false friendliness. He looks at me slyly and I roll my eyes, not charmed in the least by this neanderthal. “Can I take your bags?” He asks. “Actually -” Gwen starts, but in seconds Quick Silver has all of our bags and is hanging them on hooks in the closet. “For safe kepping,” he says, closing the door, though he thankfully leaves it unlocked.  
“So, now what?” Peter asks.  
“Well, you can do whatever, but I’m borrowing Eddie for a little bit, ok, sure, thanks, bye!” Mary Jane says, pull me by the hand and Quick Silver nods to the other room and I decide to go ahead and follow them.  
“I’ll be back, I guess!” I say over my shoulder.  
She sits us down on a couch with some of her friends and starts chattering. I don’t really have anything to say so I just let them go.  
After quite a while I receive a text from Scott asking me where I am. I ignore it. I don’t know what he wants, nor do I care at the moment.  
Mary Jane’s party out here was labeled as “private,” but I guess that was more of a suggestion instead of a rule. Random people manage to show up regardless. Mary Jane pretends she’s annoyed, but I can tell she loves the attention. And honestly, good for her.  
There are a dozen of us sitting in the living room of the cabin talking. The other rooms are rowdy with the sounds of people chatting and dancing and getting progressively higher and drunker and hornier.  
I have a beer in my hand, strange since I don’t drink, but find I quite like it.  
I haven’t had this much fun in a while! It’s kind of nice being away from the weird people for once.  
I’ve never realized how dumb a lot of the poeple I go to school with actually are. Mary Jane’s crew are the only halfway normal ones in here!  
I’ve never been popular and never wanted to but to be here? To be wanted? Wanted by the best? It’s flattering, honestly. Every second with these people is a dopamine shot to the brain.  
As I sit with the others and chat and laugh and sip our beers, my phone keeps buzzing. Scott is blowing up my phone still. “Dude, where you at?” He texts in all caps.  
Irritation rushes through me and I passive aggressively answer, “just with my other friends, there a problem?”  
He replies, “Gwen’s gonna find you, we’re worried!”  
“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” I mutter and toss my phone to the table, tired of it buzzing in my pocket.  
[there is some more inane banter here, who gives a fuck?]  
“Oh my God!” Mary Jane says, motioning to the door as Gwen walks in.  
“Ugh, why is she even here?” A girl asks.  
“The cat dragged her in,” I say, smirking. “Mewow!” I swipe my hand in the air and the others laugh.  
Gwen just stands and blinks for a second before saying, “ok, Eddie, we need to -”  
“Who told you you could talk?” Mary Jane cuts off.  
Gwen roars. “FUCK YOU MJ! Eddie, we need your help, like, now -”  
“No, MJ’s right, who said you could talk?” I say.  
Gwen stops, her eyes wide. “W - what?” She says, taken aback.  
“Look Gwen, I’m here to have fun, alright? If the ‘thing’ happens, just text me.”  
“What good will that do when you don’t answer?” She says through gritted teeth.  
“Exactly,” I say. “Go play amongst yourselves,” I say waving her off.  
She blinks again, utterly awestruck.  
MJ looks at me both shocked and impressed.  
“Eddioe are you kidding -”  
“Gwen, I don’t think you’re getting it,” I snap. “I actually tried when I dressed for this party, unlike some people. Mirror at home broken? Daddy can’t buy you a new one? Your wardrobe burst into flames? It’s the only thing that explains that ghastly getup. You only came here because I let you in. Unless you want me to have them kick you out, I suggest you get out of my face!”  
Gwen has gone from anger to shocked hurt. She quivers and her eyes dart, clearly not sure how to feel. I just smile as a tear drips down her face a second before she whirls around and walks out, roughly shoving two jock dudes out of the way who laugh at her.  
One of those two jocks is the guy I beat the teeth out of. He’s since had dental work done with not too great results.  
“Why are you laughing at her?” I say to him. “She’s bad, but she’s at least not ogreish.”  
“Wait - what?” He says, taking a sip of his drink.  
“Too bad somebody knocked your teeth out. What happened? Couldn’t get a real dentist and had to borrow a rabbit's dentures?”  
Several people snort.  
“Hey what are you saying - ?”  
“No,” I say, “that would Imply you’re charming enough for others to let you borrow their things - clearly they’re professionally made, but with your misshapen head, caved in by somebody, I guess that’s the best they could do.”  
Everyone bursts into laughter.  
The guy comes at me but Mary Jane wags her finger at him. “Ah, ah, I have ‘associates here.’ Eddie’s a friend of mine, you mess with him, I can have the most unspeakable things happen to your car!”  
The guy glowers at me and throws the rest of his drink at me.  
I grab a tray from the table - the snacks previously on it long since eaten - and block the liquid with it. It splatters before running down between my splayed legs to the floor. I’m 100% dry.  
“You gonna clean that up, or what?” I say.  
The guy roars and leaves.  
Mary Jane high fives me.  
Everyone keeps laughing, myself included. I can’t believe how powerful I am right now! The popular people actually think I’m funny! I have all the uglies and losers in here wrapped around my finger!  
I glance over and see Quick Silver walking over.  
“Hey, Eddie,” he says as he plops down next to me.  
“Quick Silver, we meet again, I say.  
Quick Silver puts an arm around me and the others “oooh!” Like the studio audience on a sitcom.  
With all the excitement I feel any and all social anxiety flee.  
I snuggle up next to Quicksilver, just compelled to.  
Suddenly all of my insides churn.  
“EDDIE!” Venom yells inside my head. “I’ve been quiet until now, but really, what are you doing?”  
“Having fun,” I murmur.  
“Eddie, you are an idiot!” Venom growls?  
“Oh?” I whisper, my words lost to everyone else but me inn the din of the party.  
“Yes!” Venom snaps.  
I suddenly feel him yank control of my body, something he hasn’t done in a while, as he mostly likes to sit back and observe. He sits me upright and looks at Quick Silver.  
“Hey,” he says, mimicking my voice, pretty badly. If it wasn’t for the noise, they’d think I was sick or something. “Why don’t you and I… get some air?”  
Quick Silver smiles.  
Venom takes his hand and leaves him from the room and to the back porch where nobody else is.  
As soon as the door is closed behind us, Venom flips out and lashes out with several very tiny tendrils that sprout from my fingertips.  
They go for Quick Silver’s eves in a millisecond. They make contact and he yanks backwards. Instead of yanking out Quick Silver’s eyeballs like I’d expected, he yanks out two contacts. Venom retracts the tendrils inwards until he holds the two contacts between my thumb and forefinger.  
Quick Silver blinks.  
“Glad to see you upheld our end of the bargain and got rid of these,” Venom says. He then crushes them to dust.  
Quick Silver gasps. “NO! Those were the only ones I was able to make! Dad said I only get one pair -”  
“And they’re gone, now, boo hoo,” Venom says, his gooey deep voice sassy as hell. “You mess with Eddie, you mess with me. Now, get back inside and leave us alone before I just decide to eat you instead. I haven’t had my weekly forest deer yet.”  
Quick Silver stamps his foot to the floor with such speed he shatters a board to splinters. “DAMMIT!” She snaps before vanishing in a blip.  
Venom gives control back to me as he says, “guess he isn't’t as quick as he thinks he is.”  
I don’t reply. I just stand, utterly mortified.  
I didn’t even know I’d looked at Quik Silver that long! Now that the contacts are shattered and I’m free, waves of guilt wash over me!  
I abruptly bolt from the porch and start running past the fancy lawn and the lawn and the gardens in back of the house into the woods where I keep on running.  
I just want to get away from MJ’s house as fast as humanly - or symbiote-ily - as possible.  
...

I run and keep on running away from Mary Jane’s place until I can’t run away any longer, IE, I hit the ocean.  
I bring myself to a stop, digging my heels into the sand.  
My phone has been dinging and vibrating like a sex toy ever since I left the party after the shit I said. I take my phone out and turn it off, jamming it into my back pocket angrily.  
I sigh, frustrated, and take a look around.  
It’s a crumby day - which, it’s Marvel Falls, so that’s unsurprising.  
The whitecap waves pound as they race to the shore, viciously, only to run out of momentum right at the tips of my shoes and roll back to the sea.  
I close my eyes and just listen to the sound of it.  
The air is salty and moist and fresh and cool.  
I slowly feel my anger ebb away.  
I find myself sitting in the sand and losing myself to the moment.  
It’s broken, however, when something starts snuffling in my ear. I shriek and crawl backwards a couple feet only to relax after I realize it’s only a dog.  
The dog, a pitbull, has an intense build but the sweetest face.  
He walks right up to me and starts nuzzling my hand, looking up expectantly. I give him a good petting and his tail wags.  
I look at the tags on his collar and one of them, a blue bone shaped tag, says, HI! MY NAME IS POMPIDOU! I BELONG TO WADE WILSON! It then lists a phone number.  
Wade Wilson? Wow, I forgot he existed, it’s been forever since I’ve seen him. Is he here at the beach too?  
After a few minutes, Pompidou seems satisfied with his affection and pulls away to stretch. His ears then prick up, obviously able to pick up something I can’t, and takes off running.  
I notice a lone RV parked a good ways down the beach, barely visible.  
I feel a little twinge of guilt.  
He was good friends with Peter Parker before he died.  
I wonder if he’s doing ok? I decide to find out.  
As I approach the RV I find him sitting in a chair by the waves. Pompidou is at his side getting loving from his master.  
“Wade?” I say as I approach.  
“Eddie,” Wade says, without looking up, sounding as though he’s been expecting me.  
“Hi,” I say, suddenly a little shy.  
When I’d met him, before all this craziness took over my life, he always had an imposing demeanor to him. He seems far less imposing now. If anything he just looks… sad.  
I guess he’s out here taking advantage of the weather that, if not nice, is at least relatively warm.  
He’s taken off his leather jacket and raped it over the back of his chair and sits barefoot in the sand. He wears a grubby baseball cap, a too-large greenish grey long sleeved shirt, and jeans with holes in the knees.  
Seeing his face relaxed, looking out at the horizon where the sea meets the sky, he appears almost gentle.  
“What are you doing here?” He asks me.  
I shrug. “Dunno, I just was out walking, saw you, and thought we could talk.”  
“Sure, I’m not doing anything. And… I think I know what you want to talk about.”  
“Oh?”  
“Peter?” He says.  
I nod.  
“Yeah, I figured,” He says.  
It seems awkward to stand so I sit down cross legged in the sand.  
Wade slips from his chair and sits in the sand with me, his legs stretched out.  
Pompidou lays down in his lap and he strokes the dog’s ears tenderly.  
“So…” I don’t know how to start off the conversation.  
After my pause, Wade starts. “You know, Peter wasn’t such a bad guy. We knew each other growing up. He was a good dude. He was willing to put up with my cracker ass, so that’s something, right? He was cool when we were kids and I guess I mostly blame that cunt Mary Jane and his religious family for where he ended up.”  
“He was religious?” I ask. “Did he go to the church in town? I’ve been there and it seemed pretty nice.”  
“Naw,” Wade says, “that place is actually tolerant and normal and teaches that we should, you know, be good people to each other. His family went to some weird fundamentalist place a town over. They’re not quite at the level of crazy as the Westboro Baptist Church, but they’re up there.”  
“And Mary Jane?”  
“Spend any time with her and I think anybody’s moral compass would go wonky.”  
“No need to tell me that,” I mutter, thinking back to just a short twenty-or-so minutes ago.  
Wade sighs and looks straight out at the Ocean. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”  
I nod. “Yeah. but…” I start.  
“But what?” Wade says.  
“Was he ever, like, violent with you?” I ask.  
Wade bites his lip. “Why?”  
“He neearly beat the shit out of me for talking to Peter Quill and then Scott for defending me.”  
“He got violent?”  
“He bruised my arm and would have probably started a huge fight if Gwen hadn’t stepped in.”  
“Figures,” Wade says. “She always did have him by the balls. I’m sorry that happened to you. I never said he was an angel. He’s thrown a punch or two at me over petty stuff - well, he used to. He’s dead now.”  
“You’re having problems with the present tense too, huh?” I say.  
Wade nods. “Yeah, I guess so.”  
“I feel bad saying this, but it’s no excuse the way he treated me - and you as well, apparently. Controlling, domineering, violent and the like? Not good stuff, super not good stuff.”  
“Yeah,” Wade says. He doesn’t sound annoyed or mad, just tired and defeated. “You kniw,” he says, “I wasn’t the nicest to you, either.”  
“I recall,” I say.  
“Peter and I were in a bad way. We’d been arguing a lot and he was acting like a total prick, whatever. I was trying to be nice and he wasn’t having it. But then, you show up? Naive, green, here less than a week, and he’s all over you? I got pissy. And that wasn’t fair to take it out on you when it was Peter I was mad at. I really am sorry.”  
I chuckle. “Apology accepted. I wasn’t that upset in any case.”  
“You’re a good dude, Eddie,” Wade says, smiling.  
My phone buzzes and I look to see that Scott is texting nme, frantically, since I’m not at the party anymore.  
“Hey, I’ve got to go,” I say, getting up.  
“Alright, man,” Wade says. “Thanks for talking.”  
“Well, thank you for showing me you’re not an asshole,” I say.  
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Wade says, trailing off.  
I give Pompidou one last face rub before running back into the woods and to the party.  
…

I get back to the house and find the others.  
They all glare at me, which is reasonable, considering the circumstances.  
However, their anger softens when I explain it was Quick Silver’s now destroyed contacts.  
I apologize profusely and Gwen accepts, though she does still look a little hurt. I don’t blame her for that.  
It’s completely dark out now and we have nothing to do but wait.  
None of us are real party animal types of people so we all instinctively drift to the kitchen where a ton of food is laid out. We help ourselves and just stand and watch the other people.  
The whole house blinks and flashes like a rave and the stereo blasts songs on the Hot 100.  
It’s kind of humerus to see our classmates - generally composed - completely let loose and and fall all over one another in drunken horniness.  
We head outside for some fresh air just as Rain On Me by Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande comes on.  
Peter gasps. “OH my GOD! I love this song!”  
“I like it too,” I say. “It deserved it’s best original song award.”  
“Care to dance?” Peter asks.  
I grin. “You bet your biffy I am!”  
Neither of us are good dancers, but we do have fun trying on the cobblestone patio leading to the backyard. A lot of other people are using it as a dance floor as well, making this moment feel like one from a movie.  
Several times I glance over and notice Mary Jane watching us, leaning against the doorway of the back door, looking quite cross. I wave at her innocently, knowing it’ll piss her off, and it does!  
Suddenly, the music cuts out. We can hear someone, a girl, screming in horror. And when we look where the screams tell us to, my blood runs cold.  
There, at the edge of the woods, face grinning like the Cheshire Cat, same as the night he murdered Peter and his family, is Carnage.  
...

Wade’s POV:  
As we walk through the forest, He seems so stoked with himself, constantly running his hands over my body as we walk, feeling my abs and biceps.  
There is rubble and even glass littering the ground but none of it’s anything more than annoying against the bottoms of my feet; it just bounces off like my skin is made of iron.  
He smiles as he walks and His eyes roll back in his head when he says, “This body was not my first choice, but I am getting used to it.”  
I am terrified as I always am when He takes over. Usually He lets me have control, at least during the day, as He has little to do then. He isn’t a big fan of sunlight. But it’s no longer sunny, no longer bright. It’s now the dead of night, the moon is out, and He is ready to do what his name implies.  
I know what he intends to do. He was interested before and was planning to go, but once Eddie showed up and revealed he was going to be there, His drive became immense. Why wouldn’t he want to destroy the rogue symbiote who killed the host of Panic, who is now with us once more, waiting for a new person to hold them?  
I’ve never been the social type and I wasn’t a fan of the people at Marvel Falls High, but I’d never want to see any of them dead, and certainly not like this, and CERTAINLY not hosts for an evil symbiote.  
I try to beg Him to stop, full well knowing he won’t.  
He only lets me ramble for a short time before he generates a sharp chunk of symbiote material from the tip of a finger and jabs it into my arm, hard and deep. He is a masochist and enjoys the pain, especially when he knows it’s agony for me. I immediately stop and a minute later he pulls back and lets the wound heal.  
It is utterly terrifying having something like Him inside, knowing He can destroy me at any time, make my life a living hell.  
“You should be grateful, you should thank me!” He says. “I am the one with the balance and the talent and I let you share in it! Never question me!”  
I remain silent and he purrs in delight.  
We finally reach the edge of the yard. He looks over the backyard filled with dancing teens.  
They’re so happy, so content, so filled with life. And this is how it ends? At the height of high school experience? At a party? With their friends? The thought of that being ripped away from them makes tears want to drip from my eyes, but He refuses to let them come.  
Suddenly, a girl looks in our direction and sees us. Her eyes widen and she drops her red solo cup, the Pepsi it’s filled with spilling everywhere. She points at us, arm shaking violently as she stumbles back, and screams for everyone to look. She’s probably hoping for protection - protection that will never come and never be enough to save her.  
I can feel from the delight He exhibits, churning inside me like a cabaul of snakes, delight in that she will be the first one he “deals with.”  
He crouches and takes a huge leap, hands and bare feet sticking to the side of the building with ease. He crawls across it flawlessly. He’s so flexible, like he’s double jointed, able to make fluid motions that look unnatural for a human to be able to do.  
The contortionist angle is off-putting to the people watching, based on their horrified screams.  
He walks across power lines over their heads with ease, like an acrobat, a new sense of balance found. He makes a backwards flip off the line and somersaults to the ground where he lands in a perfect crouch.  
The others watch in horrified amazement.  
He stands up fully, my eyes rolling back in my head, a huge grin stretching across my face to an inhuman degree, shark’s teeth replacing my own.  
The others shriek in even more horror.  
He raises up a hand, his blood red ooze escaping my skin and hardening into a sword shaped tool, similar to the T-1000 from T2: Judgement day, and says, “Let’s make some carnage!”  
Carnage leaps, fully forming around my body midair, and begins hacking and slashing indiscriminately, throwing chairs, flipping tables, slamming into people and swiping and stabbing his arm into them in an explosion of blood.  
The air rings with the sounds of dozens of people shrieking and running, slamming into one another and tripping.  
And Carnage slaughters them all.  
He hasn’t found anyone he is particularly interested in using as a Symbiote host.  
Despite the circumstances, in a way that makes me guilty to my core, I feel legitimately good - hell - powerful even. I can’t help like the feeling Carnage’s powers bring me, even if I hate the double edged sword that goes with it.  
As the commotion commences, I start to feel my fears and cares melting away, as they always do, replaced by the cool non-caring of Carnage.  
One person was hit with a flipped table and her legs have been broken, twisten backwards. She’s pinned to the ground by the table and screams and cries in horror and extreme pain. It’s the girl who first saw us.  
Carnage stalks up to her and raises his arm to decapitate her when there is a sudden flurry of motion and a foot connects with my face.  
We go flying backwards a good five feet or so, sprawled on the ground.  
Standing in front of the girl, in a crouch, is a young woman in a pink, spider-like costume. “LEAVE HER ALONE!” She yells. She stands up fully and looks around, gasping in horror. “Oh my God!” She mumbles. I can’t see her face as she’s wearing a mask, but I assume it’s twisted into that of horror and disgust.  
Several more people in costumes run out as well. They’re each armed with a tank of some kind of their back.  
The spider-girl raises an arm and a silver colored blade shoots out. A boy in a trench coat and bag-like mask has two c-shaped guns, a person in a full suit has a laser pistol of some kind, and the final person is the one who Carnage has been pissed with since day one, Venom, fully formed around his host.  
“What?!” Carnage says, in shocked rage. “Who are you?!”  
They introduce themselves as Spider Gwen, Ant Man, and Star Lord.  
“And who would you be, under the goo?” Ant Man asks.  
“Someone you may recognize,” Carnage says, melting away, briefly.  
They all gasp. “Wade?!” They say in unison.


	14. The Story of Wade Wilson [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade Wilson explains how he became infected with Carnage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucas: this chapter is basically filler - I don't even know why they bothered writing this. feel free to read if you want your fix of batshittery, or skip, pick your poison.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Oj im writing the firtsrt halfofthe chapter now because it has some acation in it and wollow hates actyion because i dont even know why wisgh me luck i had some serious fun writing this WonQ!!!@1 thabks to lucas for editing this stuffg to he make sthe whole wthing even better for you giys!!!!!! thanks t willow too for mot making me write the wjole thing!

Here I am, standing here before them, literal blood on my hands, only wearing a pair of under armour boxers, I feel so ashamed and humiliated. “I’m so sorry! I say, tears streaming down my face, even Carnage is unable to keep them at bay now.”  
“But, Wade, HOW?” Ant Man says, still utterly stunned.  
“I used to be on the high school paper, believe it or not,” I explain. “I’ve always been interested in researching and exposing people who deserve it.  
When I got kicked out of school, I was crushed, man! I didn’t know what to do! What news company would hire me, a high school flunkie?  
So, when I noticed the second head scientist at the S.H.I.E.L.D building outside of town, Magneto Watson, was acting weird, I decided to investigate. How big of a story would that be if a guy that powerful was into some shady shit? Bring that to the news and they’d have to give me a job, pronto!  
I followed Magneto around and was able to hear him talking to Scott’s dad, Hank Pimm, about suits he was making for his son and a couple of his friends. He didn’t say what that meant or anything, but Hank was super against it.  
I had a hunch Magneto was up to some shady stuff even more at that point. So, I acted. I managed to steal his brifefcase while he was at a gas station and paying inside.  
Once at home, I found a key card inside that gave me access to the building. I snuck in one night and what I found was horrifying!”  
I take a deep breath to try and keep myself together before continuing.  
“I wandered around until I stumbled across a main laboratory.  
Since its lights out, the room was dark and only illuminated by computer monitors and small rooms with people in them. There were maybe six? I can’t remember exactly.  
The computers all showed vital signs of the people in the containment units. They all looked normal. There were a variety of races and appeared to just be whoever they could find.  
I inspected some of the charts by every tank.  
It seems they were difficult for the company to find and that the Symbiotes went through dozens and dozens of people before finally settling on the ones they did. And even then, it appeared as though - eww! - their internal organs were liquidating as though being eaten from the inside. It was disgusting!  
One of the final charts was for a woman. It said that she is the closest to what they call ‘symbiosis.’  
Symbiotes are very particular about their hosts and will only attach to a host if they want to live in them permanently. These Symbiotes were staying in the people they were only to keep from dying - clearly they weren’t fans.  
She Seemed to be sleeping. She was curled up on the floor, peacefully. As I got closer, her eyes suddenly went wide. I yelled and leaped back as some sort of slimy webbing hit the glass. It slingshot her forwards so her face and body slammed hard against the glass. The shrieking coming from her was horrifying.  
Part of the voice was human and part of it was distinctly inhuman; high pitched and extremely deep at the same time. Whatever the woman was, I had my doubts she was entirely human.  
I stumbled back as the black ooze bubbled up her arms. It was like suction cups against the glass and anchored her to it.  
She shrieked as her torso suddenly went backwards. In a huge crunch, her back made a U shape and her torso swung forward and smashed into the glass. She did this over and over again and, In horror, I saw the glass starting to crack.  
There was a blast door. I pressed several buttons on the control panel to try and activate the emergency shield.  
The pad lit up red and alarms started to go off.  
Even the ear splitting alarms couldn’t block out the shrieking of this insane woman.  
Red lights flashed and made the room seem even more threatening as the glass spiderwebbed out.  
I turned to run but the laboratory door closed, sealing me in.  
I screamed as the glass finally shattered and the woman ran at me. She made an impossible leap and tackled me, knocking me on my back.  
Her fingers seemed to extend outwards with that black goo that behaved like tendrils and it wrapped around my throat. Her hands became like claws and literally went through my skin and pinned me to the cement floors. From her chest, a trickle of sentient goo oozed out and sank through my pours into my own body.  
I screamed in horror the entire time. I could feel the shit inside me moving around in every nook and cranny, impossibly so. Whatever the stuff was, it behaved like nothing I’d ever heard of.  
As the last of it left the woman, she let out one last wail before she twisted her neck and it literally swung around a full 180 degrees. She fell forward on top of me and I rolled her off me.  
I started convulsing. Everything felt weird and wrong. I don't know how I managed not to vomit.

LUCAS AN: so, Willow and Mark were both MORONS and wrote this whole past-tense chapter in PRESENT-TENSE because WHY WOULDN’T THEY? I tried to change it to the proper tense for the first bit, but fuck it, I’m done, I’m sorry!

The door to the lab suddenly slides open and a bunch of scientists and soldiers rush in only to stand with horror on their faces.  
I feel whatever the thing is moving around inside me. I roll over and vomit, the feeling the most unpleasantness I have ever experienced.  
I am suddenly aware of people with guns pointed at my face.  
“Sorry about this, kid,” one of the guards says.  
I hear others screaming orders as they try to figure out a way to contain me.  
One of the guards fires and wings my shoulder.  
Immediately, as though I am completely out of control - as though my body is not my own, I throw one of my arms out and something hits one of the guards and knocks him backwards. Another shoots and slingshots one guard into another.  
I leap up and rush at them. They fire and I feel holes tear through my body, though it somehow doesn't kill me.  
I rip a gun from one of the guards and throw it away so hard the weapon embeds itself in the wall like a knife through butter, briefly, before the damaged ammo inside abruptly explodes.  
That black goo rushes to my hands, hardening like real flesh, the tips hardening to steel, which slash at the remaining guards and rip them to shreds.  
A final guard kicks my legs out from under me and, as I go down, those clawed hands stab right through his boot and into his foot.  
The guard wails and writhes.  
I leap up, turn, and run.  
They try closing the doors but I throw my arms out and the long gooey tendrils catch the door and force it open as I run through.  
More guards are in the hall.  
I feel a force yank me backwards into an empty closet.  
Goo shoots out from my chest and hits the door and closes the cracks like sealant.  
They try opening it but when they press the button the floor just sticks.  
“Boots,” I hear a growly gooey voice from somewhere in the closet say.  
“What?” I demand. My control has somewhat returned.  
“Tired,” I hear the voice say. It sounds odd to me, as though the voice is intelligent but confused and unknowledgeable, like a foreigner.  
“Boots,” the voice says again. “Off.”  
“What?” I mumble, again.  
Goo shoots from my finger and hits my sneakers.  
“Off! Don't Know, boots off!”  
I blink.  
“Off! Off! OFF!”  
I am suddenly yanked forward and my head is bashed into the door repeatedly as the voice screams.  
“OK!!!” I yell.  
The force stops.  
Around The stream of goo coming from my chest, I get my laces undone and slip my shoes off.  
The voice snarls, angry. “Under boots!” It yells.  
Before it can act out I slip my socks off, bare feet touching the cold floor and making me break out in goosebumps.  
“Skin,” the voice says. “Out skin.”  
“Huh?”  
Gooey tendrils wrap around my lab coat.  
I slip that off.  
The tendrils then each for my face pet me like a master would their dog.  
“Good,” the voice says.  
I lose control again. I hold one of my arms up defensively and the goo covers it hardening it like iron. The goo from my chest and the cracks retracts into my body. I run at the door and hit it with incredible force. The door buckles, and I burst out.  
The others were not expecting that. With two powerful swipes, I knock the others assured like toys.  
More shots rip through my body but as soon as a hole appears it closes just as quickly - as though healing instantly. A lot of the shots miss me and ricochet off the walls several times before stopping.  
My head turns to see this.  
The hall is filled with guards.  
“Boots off good see?!” the voice says all in one dumb sounding sentence.  
The goo shoots from my arms again and hits a section of protective wall and rips a square of its from its foundation and goo attached to it and makes it into a crude shield.  
I run at the wall and reach up, my bare foot placed on the wall. The bottom feels sticky. I literally walk up the wall. My muscles burn as I do so and the voice wails.  
“Why hurt?” It shrieks. “Hate! Hate!”  
Still, it pilots me around. I run across the ceiling with difficulty as my body keeps wanting to fail me. The plate is raised over my head. And the soldiers fire, I move it to deflect the shots, many of them bouncing back and hitting their own masters. A lot of the shots still hit me.  
“Slow body!” The voice says angrily.  
I burst from the hall and drop from the ceiling. The voice attempts to have me flip down like a cool action star and I end up just landing on my shoulders and literally feel my spine snap. The pain is blinding. I just lay there and scream.  
“Must fix,” the voice mutters, annoyed. The pain ends a few seconds later.  
I tilt upwards at an impossible angle by goo shooting from my back and propels me up. I immediately run.  
“Where out where out where out!” The voice shrieks.  
“Exit?” I say, “from the building?”  
The voice nods my head.  
“I can't -”  
I am thrown against a wall. I am bashed until bones shatter and no lay in a broken heap.  
“Tell or won't fix!”  
“Ok!” I squeal as shattered bones start to pierce my internal organs - my body reconstructs itself like nothing happened.  
I take off running and go for the exit.  
From there, my mind is hazy. I don’t even really remember escaping the facility or anything. All I remember is just stumbling home in a daze.

WILLOW AN: Ok, I’m taking over now!

I was tired, sick, and confused. I immediately passed out in bed.  
I Wake in the middle of the night. I’m not sure why, but I do.  
I notice a particular scent. In fact, I notice a scent from everything. I can smell residue from the gas station I stopped at on my way home still lingering on my pants - from five feet across the room. I can smell the linnen, the carpeting, the walls, the very dust in the air.  
Despite the dark room I can see everything in perfect clarity.  
Something’s wrong. I can feel it inside me, things changing. I feel an incredible tension, an energy buildup, ready to explode.  
The room suddenly seems claustrophobic. I need to get out of here! I practically rush out of the house, still in a t-shirt and night pants and barefoot, the claustrophobia getting worse.  
As soon as I get myself out of the house I start to feel better. Not by huch however as my skin starts to feel as though it's on fire. My blood feels as though it’s boiling, my stomach belly flopping, my lungs ready to explode. The throbbing I'd experienced after being attacked by that creature is back and worse than ever.  
There’s something wrong with my face, the skin feels too tight, stretched somehow.  
I slump against my car as I try to overcome the pain, though it’s like trying to swim against a tidal wave. I press my burning face against the cool glass of the drivers side window and that coolness is sucked away immediately.  
A sudden convulsion flings me away from the car onto the ground. I start writhing and flailing and gasping.  
My fingers rake the concrete driveway, my nails somehow leaving long gouges in the solid stone with no damage to me at all.  
One foot lashes out and hits the side of my car, utterly crumpling the drivers side door inwards as though it were hit by a meteorite.  
As I am utterly consumed by the fury feeling I black out.  
...  
I awake, though I don’t know where.  
I just lay, feeling cool fresh dew on my face and the warmth of early morning sun on my back.  
A flimsy morning mist swirls through the air. Thin clouds adorn the sky in a sheet, dyed yellow and orange and pink by the light of the rising sun. I see green everywhere. Grass, trees, bushes. It’s a beautiful contentful scene.  
I don’t move a muscle, not even my head to look around. That would ruin the moment.  
I feel strange somehow. My body tingles with energy. My heart beats quickly. Although it’s a chilly morning, I am perfectly warm, almost hot, really.  
Hot. I gasp as a sudden wave of memory washes over me, of everything that happened last night before I blacked out.  
Then, my mind came up with a very good question. “Why the hell am I out in the forest?”  
I get up on my hands and knees and my stomach drops as I see what’s laying about three feet away from me. A deer, a stag, it's limbs ripped off, it’s sides ripped out, internal organs missing, eaten out by the looks of the messy carcas. There’s something like a look of shock still frozen on the deer’s face.  
I look down at myself and realize I’m a bloody mess. It’s all down the front of me, encrusting my hands, and all over my face. My breathing becomes erratic as I yell, “N - NO!”  
I leap up to my feet with the swiftness and skill of a gymnast, skills I most certainly didn’t have before. My legs barely feel like legs, more like springs… for pouncing. It makes me shudder.  
I look around and find I don’t particularly recognize any of my surroundings.  
I glance back down at the dead deer and a massive wave of grief and horror and disgust washes over me.  
Without even thinking, I just start running in a random direction, only wanting to get away from here.  
My whole body seems to thank me as I run. It’s a pleasant intoxicating feeling to run, like sex.  
My feet, still bare, should’ve been ripped to shreds but they don’t. I feel things under them, but they repel these objects like somewhat squishy steel.  
I know I’m running away from the monster, though I also know that that’s impossible. The monster is me.  
My speed and agility is disturbing. The way the trees fly by, I know I’m going faster than normal, equal or even faster than a marathon runner. I’m able to see everything in the forest, an impossible feat at this speed.  
I’ve been running for a while but I’m not tired. My body is delighted with the blissful feeling of movement. Honestly, I don’t really want to stop.  
However, I do stop when I abruptly trip and fly face first into the wide deep stream that cuts through the forest. The water is freezing, I can tell, but it doesn’t chill me. My internal body temperature is too high for that.  
I look around.  
This stream is fairly close to the local camping grounds. I can’t be more than a mile away from them. That’s a long ass way from my house though, a good ten miles!  
My face scraped against a rock as I fell face first, but the pain subsided after only a few seconds. The blood that runs from the wounds halts almost immediately, the skin totally healed. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around how so I don’t bother.  
I take advantage of the water and lower my face to it, taking in several large refreshing gulps. I then sit down and scrub the blood off of me. After a few minutes of soaking, I feel super clean, thanks to the freshest, cleanest mountain water in the country!  
While I feel terrified at my situation, I also feel a sense of freedom, of peace. A part of me just wants to stay out here and never leave. However, I know I need to get home and find out what the fuck is wrong with me.  
I decide that I’ll slip over to the campsite, snag someone’s loose clothes, and get back home.  
My clothes currently are still deeply stained and utterly torn ragged. The shirt is so ripped across the front it’s barely staying on my torso.  
It shouldn’t be too difficult, in theory anyway.  
I take off running in the capsite’s direction and within a few minutes have arrived.  
I scan the surroundings and assess my situation.  
Many of the RVs and rented cabins look deserted, probably left temporarily unattended as the residents go on an early morning hike.  
I keep close to the forest as I scan, hoping for an unattended clothes line or forgotten duffel bag. No such luck.  
It takes me a few minutes to realize how stealthy I’m being without realizing it. I’m silent as I move, my feet somehow knowing just the right spot to step without making noise.  
I notice an RV right next to the forest.  
I sneak over to it and peer into the windows. It doesn’t appear to be inhabited. There are fresh tire tracks nearby, presumably the owners went for groceries or something.  
As I look around I see that in the room that's presumably the kitchen, a long overcoat hangs. Perfect!  
I sneak to the back door of the RV and find it unlocked. I carefully open the door and step in.  
The place is a mess, whoever lives here isn’t a terribly good housekeeper. Then again, this is also a tight space, so keeping everything in order can be difficult.  
I’m halfway through the kitchen when a scent hits my nose and a sinking feeling climbs up from my gut and into my throat.  
“Joe?” A female voice says from another room. “Joe? Are you back already? You got those condoms, right, at this rate we’ll be out by tonight!”  
In horror I watch as this woman, in a nightgown, rounds the corner and stops dead in her tracks looking at me.  
My mouth goes dry, my brain reels trying to find a way out of this. I have nothing.  
The woman grabs a frying pan from the nearby stove and holds it out in my direction like a medieval knight with his sword. She glares at me with a look of determined hardness.  
“What the hell are you doing in here, who the fuck are you?” She snarls.  
“I - uh - well - i - ummm…” I just stand and stammer.  
I break out in a cold sweat.  
The woman sniffs, nostrils flaring. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes start to drift and she begins to look kind of unfocused.  
I can smell something myself, her body dumping hormones. I gulp.  
The woman looks at me with that of concern now. “Oh, god,” she says, eyeballing me. “Are you alright, sir? What happened to you?”  
“Accident,” I manage to croak out. “I was in an accident.”  
“Oh man,” she says, “that’s awful! Here -”  
She turns and walks into the other room and after a few seconds, I follow.  
She rummages around on th4 floor, digging through tons of junk until she finds a flannel shirt, a pair of jeans, and a large pair of shoes that would never fit me, though the gesture is appreciated.  
“Here, these are my boyfriend Joe’s. You need them more than he does right now.”  
She kindly turns so I can change. I fumble with the buttons of the shirt, putting them in all the wrong holes and my hands are so jittery I can barely get the fly of the pants up.  
“Here, let me help,” she says, still sounding dazed. She walks over and undoes the buttons of the shirt but then starts caressing my chest.  
Her eyes are so drifted and her head slightly cocked as though she’s ready to pass out. Her hormones are insane currently.  
I took a step back, freaked out.  
She stands upright, startled for a second. “Oh, sorry, I kind of lost it for a second…” she murmurs before doing the buttons up correctly this time.  
She insists on slipping the boots onto my feet herself and hands me several large granola bars that I stick into my back pocket when she isn’t looking.  
“Hey,” I say, “thank you for the - um - help.”  
“It was my pleasure,” the woman says.  
I get up and quickly make for the exit.  
I open the door to come face to face with a huge hulking man carrying two large grocery bags. He’s built like a football player, his hair pushed down by a stocking cap, face blue with stubble.  
He looks down at me with a shocked look on his face. “What the hell is this?” He yells. “Kathy, who is this guy and why is he wearing my clothes?”  
“Joe, this is - did I catch your name?” The woman says.  
“Rod,” I say, quickly, picking something random off the top of my head.  
“This is Rod,” Katchy continues. “He was in an accident and needed new clothes.”  
Before the man can say anything else I make a break for it, bolting from the RV and straight into the woods.  
Joe yells after me but I don’t stop or even look back. Soon, his cries are far behind me.  
I pass the creak, making a mighty leap right over it, and keep running as fast as I can back home.  
The sun is barely over the trees by the time I get back to the house. The shoes have not fared well from miles and miles of incessant running. The laces became undone and became all frayed and shredded and the soles have started severating from the rest of the shoe.  
I pass by my massively dented car and go into the house.  
And… that’s how I became infected with… with Carnage!” I finally finish.


	15. Final Confrontations [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fight Carnage for the whole chapter.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Yay i get ti do a qwhole cool fight scene now since willow hates doin them and im LOVNG IT!!!! My zoom classed are so borujbg and my techer is so buitchy ans i hate her and everyone else so ill totally fail school if it means gettingbaway from her!!!!! Whiol she was yappin I wrote this dope ass fight scene tell me what yoy thnk please I really think its cool!!!!!111111!!!!!

LUCAS AN: So, for clarity, now all of the characters are being referred to by their superhero-sonas. Not sure why Mark wrote it that way. Here’s the rundown for anyone who might have missed it:  
Eddie = Venom (duh)  
Gwen = Spider Gwen  
Scott = Ant Man  
Peter = Star Lord

Eddie’s POV:

Carnage’s head extends from Wade's shoulder and sneers in my direction as Wade finishes speaking. “Well, that was all very interesting, wasn’t it? Thank you, Wade.”  
I get one last glance at Wade before he is completely subsumed into Carnage’s form.  
“I mean, interesting is subjective,” Scott says, his hand resting on a fist, boredly.  
“STOP QUIPPING!” Carnage suddenly bellows. “I tire of all this!” He extends a claw in my direction. “You shall die, Venom, you and your host both! If you aren’t for your own brethren, why should I leave you alive, after all?”  
“Come and get it!” Venom hisses as he takes form around me.  
Carnage makes the first move, rushing towards me. He lashes out and slashes the front of Venom’s chest, slicing through his body and grazing my own abdomen, shredding my shirt and cutting my skin deeply.  
He then swings again, his arm suddenly forming into something shaped similar to an axe head that comes down hard on Venom’s shoulder. He catches it this time and manages to catch it with a copious amount of goo that catches the axe head in a vaguely hand shaped appendage.  
However, with the other hand Venom is hit in the side with a large cone shaped blade, the tip of which being fairer (finer?) than a pin. It slices all the way through my body, puncturing basically every single organ possible.  
Venom panics, suddenly having to keep the axe from severing my arm right off, keeping my chest intact to keep my guts from spilling out, but also having to repair irreparable internet damage that I couldn’t possibly survive without him.  
Suddenly, Carnage is off me and flying backwards.  
Ant Man grows to roughly the size of Mary Jane’s house and throws carnage back with a swift Kick.  
“Distract him, please!” Venom hisses as he pilots us to safety behind a wall briefly.  
I slowly start to feel the searing pain start to null.  
Ant Man goes crazy On Carnage.  
Carnage slashes at Ant Man’s armor but the adamantium structure is impenetrable. He manages to nick some of the fabric around the joints – there for mobility – but Ant Man is able to keep moving enough and is able to swat the goo away before it can seep into his suit.  
Carnage creates two huge tendrils that wrap around Ant Man’s legs and snap them together, tripping him, like the A.T.A.Ts from Star Wars. Ant man goes to his knees, but this allows him to bring a fist down right on Carnage’s head, crushing him like a bug. He then blasts the tendrils around him with fire.  
Carnage lets out the most horrendous shriek of rage and pain I have ever heard. The goo hardens and falls away.  
Ant Man shrinks down to normal size and runs away back over to Us.  
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” both I am Venom yell at the same time.  
“You’re hurt, I’m here to make sure you’re ok –”  
“DON’T WORRY ABOUT US! JUST KILL CARNAGE!”  
Just as these words are said, two things happen. 1) I finish being healed and, 2) Carnage makes a huge leap across the yard and body slams Venom, sending us flying.  
We land on the ground. In an instant, Carnage is on his feet and turns his arms into dozens of tendrils that wrap around Venom’s ankle. We are flung hundreds of feet in the air, over Mary Jane’s house and come crashing down. Venom nicks the corner of the roof - the force reducing my shoulder and neck bones to powder - and comes crashing down on a car.  
That jock Mary Jane threatened to have the car of destroyed screams in horror from somewhere in the house. “MY FUCKING CAR!” He shrieks. “I HOPE YOU’RE FUCKING INSURED YOU ALIEN PIECE OF SHIT!”  
Venom, in pain and frustration, flings some goo through the front door of their house – left open – and it glues the moron’s mouth shut.  
Suddenly Carnage is in the air and coming straight down.  
Venom frantically repairs my bones enough so he can move.  
We roll and Carnage comes down right on the car. I don’t know what he did but, when he came down and crushed it further, it suddenly explodes.  
Spider Gwen jumps in with her freeze can and sprays frantically, putting out flaming debris before it can touch me and hurt Venom.  
Carnage wails and leaps from the fire. Chunks of dead symbiote flesh drop to the ground and sizzles like frying eggs as the cells are destroyed by the fire. It somewhat resembles napalm.  
He glares at Spider Gwen and throws hard material at her. It hits the strap of her canister, yanking it off her and pins it to the upper portion of the house somehow.  
“Fetch!!” Carnage snarls.  
Spider Gwen makes a leap and, with her sword, severs Carnage’s arms.  
Star Lord flies in and kicks them, midair, sending them flying in random directions.  
“You too!” Gwen says, smarmily.  
Star Lord then fires his gun at Carnage’s head, blasting a huge hole in it. The laser blast makes a hole akin to a Loony Tunes cartoon. It’s so clean it’d almost be funny but this is way too serious to pissuble laugh.  
Venom crunches the rest of my bones back into place and then leaps at Carnge, grabbing his leg while he’s incapacitated, and yanks him up and slams him down into the ground so hard he makes huge craters in the comcrete diving area.  
Suddenly, from Carnage’s mangled form – how or where I’m not sure – especially since his head is demolished – Carnage’s voice hisses “bond quickly!”  
We don’t have to wonder what that means for long. Four globs of goo explode from Carnage’s body, one a black-blue color, one a black-yellow color, one a black-orange color, and one a black-indigo color. They all squeal like pitch shifted pigs as they scamper away on a billion spider web feet to look for a host.  
“SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!” Ant Man yells.  
“You and Star Lord take care of them!” I yell with Venom’s mouth.  
They both oblige.

Peter’s POV:

Ant Man and I split up.  
Thankfully, the four goo beasts split up into pairs, those pairs staying together.  
My two rush into the house and I go after them while Ant Man follows his two around the house into the post-apocalypse looking backyard.  
People hiding in the house shriek in horror as I come flying in. It never occurred to me that they probably haven’t ever seen anything like this before outside of movies.  
“Hey, whoa, sorry!” I yell, my voice disguised somewhat by my mask that deepens and roboticizes my voice.  
My rocket boots then promptly set the shag carpeting on fire, filling the house with the scent of burning plastic, not helping my case. I blast the fire with my liquid nitrogen canister.  
“ANYONE SEEN ANY GOO MONSTERS?” I yell.  
Nobody answers either from not seeing anything or sheer panic, one of the two.  
Suddenly, some random girl I can’t remember the name of – I've never been good with names, like, ever – suddenly lunches at me, her eyes a dark black and her arms coated in dark indigo goo.  
“SORRY BABE!” I yell as I bring my canister up and freeze her right in the face. she falls to the ground, her lower torso still writhing, her vocal cords shrieking inside her frozen-shut mouth. I freeze her lower half and keep going until she’s a solid block.  
Everyone starts screaming again. Adrenaline had taken over but it just now occurs to me I just murdered someone.  
“Hey, bummer, right?” I say, weakly, trying to be humorous.  
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ASSHOLE, YOU JUST KILLED SOMEONE WHAT THE HELL?1” None other than Mary Jane yells.  
Nobody is amused either as they try escaping the room.  
Suddenly I am hit in the back of the head with something. It knocks me from the air – in my confusion I forget to make my rocket boots, you know, rocket – and fall to the melted carpeting.  
I roll around, trying to keep the lunging symbiote – the blue colored one – from getting into my suit.  
“YEAH, THAT’S IT, GET HIM! GET THAT FUCKER!” Mary Jane yells at the creature.  
“YOU ARE SERIOUSLY NOT HELPIG!” I yell at her, glaring in her direction – forgetting she can’t see my face. if she could, she'd totally be put in her place though.  
I hear the symbiote actually say near my ear. “Ooh, Panic likes!” it says before leaping from me towards Mary Jane.  
She shrieks as she’s hit in the face and thrown backwards into a wall. Her head hits hard and her eyes roll up, giving the creature, Panic, no resistance as his seeps into her body. in an instant it forms around her.  
When I see it in all it’s cracked out hulking monster glory I gasp. This is the very thing that Eddie said he fought! The thing that possessed Johnny Storm! The thing that killed him! I mean, I guess I don’t care that Johnny is dead, he was always kin dof a dick to me, but still, major bummer I guess!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
look, im tired of writing this cene cause got writer’s block so peter just beats the shit out of mry jane because shes a total whoreslut an leave it at that kk????

LUCAS AN: *Sighs* Alright, I’ll fill in the gaps for you, asshole. I have to do everything around here, don’t I? T_T Next part is me:

While I’m not the biggest fan of Mary Jane, I think it is still best to try and save her if possible.  
The guilt of killing that one girl frivolously is already starting to wrack at my consciousness and I know for a fact It’s going to end up fucking me up.  
Nobody deserves to die in such a horrible way like that, not even Mary Jane who may or may not be a quote end-quote “whore-slut” (Lucas An: You misogynistic fuck-wad).  
I blast off with my boots and go towards Panic. I raise both my flamethrower and my freeze cannister’s nozzle towards his head.  
“Look, you piece of shit, nobody else is dying tonight! You better get yourself out of her or else!”  
Panic goes to swipe at me but I hit him with the freeze gun and it’s hand immediately dies and crumbles away, leaving Mary Jane’s bare hand, miraculously undouched by the liquid nitrogen.  
Panic – well – panics and seeps from Mary Jane’s body.  
Her unconscious body falls and I catch her.  
Panic oozes away and I yell after him. “Hey, By the way, I lied!” I then hit him with copious amounts of Liquid nitrogen, killing it instantly.  
I lay Mary Jane down on a couch and run through the house to the back door so I can help Ant man.

LUCAS AN: See, was that so hard, Mark? Jesus Christ you’re lazy! Sorry you have to go back to this atrociousness all unfortunate readers of this BS.

Scott’s POV:

I rush around the side of the house and grow large again.  
I catch one of the symbiotes under my foot and start stomping on it and grinding it into the dirt. It gets stuck to the bottom of my boot like gum. It’s kind of funny in a macabre way.  
Finally, I kick my foot up and it sends the Symbiote flying, allowing me to freeze it midair. It comes crashing down to the patio and smashes into a gazillion frozen chunks that quickly deteriorate into nothing.  
I look around frantically for the final one – the yellowy looking one – and gasp as it makes it’s way over to the girl with the injured leg who was trapped under the table.  
She shrieks in horror as it crawls up her chest like a particularly fast slug and lets out a gurgling laugh before sinking through her skin. I run over just as her eyes roll back into her head. there are several sharp crunches as her legs heal themselves right before she vanishes as the symbiote forms around her.  
This one works quicker than I’d expected. It’s not quite what I’d expected. It looks somewhat different from the others in that it has very pronounced breasts and has hair, though it’s more of a single thin sheet of goo that flows and waves like a flag in the wind.  
She look at me and starts roaring in rage.  
Dozens of tendrils shoot out at me and I contort myself into a bunch of absurd positions as I try to keep from being entangled.  
She suddenly grins widely, her long straight teeth (that make her look like an angler fish whose had very successful braces in her past) glinting in the multicolored lights, and sends out dozens of tendrils all from her chest, all at once.  
I frantically shrink down in an attempt to keep from being hit, but one of the stray tendrils catches me. I yelp as I am suddenly yanked forward and into the huge maw of the creature.

Peter’s POV:

I run outside just as Ant Man is devoured.  
I shriek in horror and the symbiote laughs in a shrill, insane female voice. Then, her milky white eyes widen and bug out of her head. She starts to convulse and grip her chest. her skin starts to vibrate and pulse before suddenly starting to slough off.  
In seconds all I see is the broken legged girl, now healed from her brief time as a symbiote. She looks around confused before she suddenly starts coughing.  
She holds her hand up to her mouth and catches a stray object that shoots from her throat. She stares down, eyes wide, at the thing – Ant Man. She drops him in horror and he expands to normal size.  
The flight must’ve jostled his helmet because it comes flying off, landing several feat away.  
The girl just stares at him. “Scott? Scott Lang?” she mumbles.  
Ant Man blinks, just now realizing he is helmet-less. The girl’s eyes roll back into her head and she passes out.  
I zip over to her and grab her by the shoulders before she falls and cracks her head on the concrete.  
“How the hell did you do that?” I inquire, questioningly.  
“Easy, I just started freezing the Symbiote from the inside out, like alien goo cancer treatment.”  
“Huh, cool.”  
There is a loud crash and screech from the other side of the house. We lay the girl down on the ground and go running off to help. 

Eddie’s POV:

Carnage is a tough bastard. He takes damage after damage, hit after hit, and shows no sign of stopping.  
Spider Gwen has been chuckling things at him, slashing off chunks of flesh and severing his appendages (he’s recollected his arms at this point) but will catch the severed limbs with his tendrils and reattach them seconds later.  
She also tries using her webbing to encase his hands and mouth, but he just dissolves it away a few seconds later.  
“WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING DIE?1” I scream as I slash him across the chest only for him to heal seconds later.  
He only lets out a gurgled giggle. “I am the most powerful symbiote in the known universe, do you think I’m that easy to stop, my friend?”  
I Glance over to the house in time to see the other two.  
“GUYS, GET HIM!” I yell.  
They take aim but their equipment sputters. The flamethrowers refuse to light. They try their freeze canisters but only create feeble jets that do little more than freeze the grass in a little piddly piss stream in front of them.  
“GET HIM, NOT THE GRASS!” I shriek.  
“WE’RE OUT!” they yell, frantically.  
“OH FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” Spider Gwen mutters.  
She gives Carnage one last hit with the severed hood of a students’ sports car and takes off running. Her sticky hands and feet cling to the side of the house and she scampers up the side and grabs her own canister.  
“CATCH!” She says and then tosses it towards Star Lord.  
Carnage, however, shoots out and grabs the canister. He flips his tendril like a whip and sends the canister flying far off into the woods. Even from here we can hear it hit the ground and expose, presumably killing some endangered fir tree. (fuck pollution!)  
Carnage grins. “So much for that!”  
just as well I suppose, It could potentially kill Wade as I doubt Carnage would ever let him go. However, I doubt that Carnage will ever stop.  
We’re all starting to get exhausted and we’re out of equipment!  
I glance over and see the still burning car. I’ve been avoiding it as I don’t want to hurt Wade, but I don’t think I really have a choice here anymore.  
“I am so fucking sorry,” I murmur under my breath.  
Venom morphs an arm into a large hammer shape and slam it into Carnage. He goes flying back and lands on his back, spread eagled, right on top of the burning wreckage. He wails in horror as the fire sears his flesh. In seconds he is melted away into nothing. And then we hear Wade start to scream.  
Ant Man rushes over as he has the only fireproof suit. He grabs Wade from the fire.  
We all look on in horror. Wade’s skin is horribly burned, most of his flesh gone to the point he is actually bleeding from several third degree burns that have melted his flesh.  
We suddenly hear the blaring oF sirens of both a cop car – presumably Dad’s – and an ambulance – thank God!  
We lay Wade on the concrete away from the dirt so as not to infect his exposed wounds, and take off running so as not for anyone to see us or know who we are. We don’t stop until the sirens are far away and then disappear entirely. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
i worked super hard on this uou gusy [please tell e honesltly, is it good? It h as to be good I worked for like and hour on it and after lucan got ahol of it its gotta be like sao great to read please oh pleas!!!!!!!1!1!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is Lucas. I recently lost my job because of motherfucking Covid. Since I'm currently in quarantine with my family and out of options, I've agreed to help Willow and Mark with their dumb little story. I've been having a hard time keeping my hands off the beer in the back of the fridge, so a little something as a pleasant distraction is warranted. I've already added a couple chapters I've been sitting on and I have a few more ones I'm currently editing. It's not even Christmas yet and yet they're already done with school, lol. Like, it's Zoom classes, you're not going to die! So, anyway, just wanted to say something, the fic isn't dead - unfortunately - so if you're interested, feel free to keep reading.


	16. Conspiracies, Carnivals, and Confessions [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Peter discuss their feelings and other assorted high school stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several warnings to make:  
> 1) There is an explicit sex scene towards the end of the chapter.  
> 2) there are discussions in this chapter of self harm, past and present.  
> 3) Just be aware that these things are present!  
> 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Yellow everyone aim here and writig a new seta chqpters fowbv you all t read and enjoy!!!!!! Im gettin into teh dram a and how thewse characters tick wghuch ois new tretory for me and im excited to see how it unfolds! Hiold ontu your buts everybody and endpoy!!!!!!1

Venom and I wake up this morning only to walk downstairs and see Dad sitting in his lazy boy, still in his pajamas that are literally just a pair of light blue waffle knit sleep pants and nothing else. (if he wasn’t my Dad I’d be turned on, he’s pretty hot!)  
He’s watching a news report of the - no pun intended - carnage from last night at Mary Jane’s party.  
The news reporter summarizes saying, “last night the cabin owned by local entrepreneur, Magneto Watson, was ransacked by unknown assailants.”  
It shows a picture of Magneto and waves of turned-on-ness flows through me. He is a decently built man in his mid thirties by the look of him. He’s fairly handsome with strong features, reddish brown hair, and piercing grey eyes (pretty much like Michael Fassbender from Days Of Future Past).  
“Witnesses claim that the beast initially ran in and jumped on walls and crawled on power lines. On-site psychologists theorize that the assailant was a rogue bear that, under such stress, the witnesses hallucinated doing impossible feats. There were four people in costume described as well. Here’s Magneto Watson’s two children, Mary Jane Watson and Quick Silver Watson’s, recounting of the events that took place.”  
It cuts to footage of the two of them, huddled in blankets, looking shaken. Mary Jane immediately starts babbling, going into detail about Carnage’s attack, the other Symbiotes, and Star Lord. Quick Silver interjects several times but has little to add.  
It cuts back to the news reporter who says, “clearly the two are delusional as no such thing as what they describe could possibly exist in real life. Updates are still coming in, stay tuned for more!”  
Dad turns the TV off, shaking his head. “That was such a mess,” he says to me. “I’ve never seen such chaos since -”  
He pauses, knowing that mentioning Peter Parker and his family being murdered will upset me. Even though he tries to catch himself it still brings waves of PTSD. “Dick,” I think angrily. But, I am strong, so I push all that shit back down.  
I go back upstairs and get dressed for the day. I throw on a white t-shirt with the Illenium logo in black on it (his album, Awake, fucking SLAPS), A black pair of those jeans with the pleated fabric on the knees that has drawstrings with silver metal caps on the ends, yellow workboots, and a green colored jacket with faux fur lining the hood.  
After establishing that I’m awake, Peter texts me a couple selfies of him getting ready as well.  
One is of him wearing a long sleeved pinkish red mottled shirt, a pair of dark brown harem pants with gold chains hanging off them, a brown leather jacket, white sneakers, and a brown beanie.  
The second picture is of him just in his boxers that are yellow with emoji smiley faces all over them. I gulp as I realize he has a slight case of morning wood. He has a hell of a shlong - I wonder if he noticed when he took the picture? He has a humorous sensual expression on his face; tongue sticking out. I grin and roll my eyes and send him a selfie of myself as well.  
After the typical grueling bus ride, Peter Quill and I walk into school and sit with the others at our usual table.  
Gwen is wearing a purple t-shirt with glittery sequins down the front, a crop top leather jacket, a thin flowy purple scarf, a shortish flowy skirt with ripped purple mesh leggings, and high heeled bright purple boots with black bows on the tongues.  
Scott is dressed as his usual hipster self, a dad sweater, beanie, long scarf that’s an ugly shade of brown with olive green and thrift store candle burgundy red diamond patterns on it, light brown corduroy pants, striped socks the same color as his scarf, and decades old brown fancy dress shoes in need of a polish.  
“Hi,” I say as I sit down.  
“Hey,” Gwen says.  
Scott says nothing, staring down at his tablet.  
“HELLO!” I say and wave a hand in front of his face.  
He jumps. “Oh, hi,” he mumbles, going right back to it.  
“Um… what are you doing?” I ask.  
“I’m sending very specific orders to Ultron,” he says. “Those supersuits owned by Quick Silver and the others are seriously dangerous. After that stunt Quick Silver pulled with you, I think it’s best those suits are taken away.”  
“How is that going to happen?” I ask.  
“Ultron will search them out, immediately grab them, and take them back to the lab where they’ll go into storage.”  
“Oh,” I say. “They’re not going to be happy about that.”  
“They can eat shit as far as I’m concerned,” Scott mutters as he finishes doing what he’s doing with his tablet. He switches it to sleep mode and sets it down on the table and stretches and sighs deeply. “So, did you guys catch the news today?”  
“Yeah,” I say. “It was pretty gnarly.”  
Gwen nods. “Yeah. it’s crazy how much damage happened. There were a ton of people injured, one killed.”  
Peter blushes. “Yeah… about her…”  
“I know you froze her to death,” Gwen says, rolling her eyes. “Was that totally necessary?”  
“I don’t know, I panicked!” Peter says, exasperatedly.  
“Uh huh, sure,” Gwen mutters.  
“Did the news mention Wade at all?” I ask. “I didn’t watch that far.”  
“Yeah, it did,” she says. “He’s ok - if alive is what you mean. He’s currently in the Marvel Falls hospital. Third degree burns all over, SEVERE tissue damage.” She shakes her head. “He didn’t deserve that!”  
“He’s going to have Freddy Kruger when he gets out,” Scott says.  
“SCOTT!” Gwen snaps. “The hell, man?!”  
“I’m sorry!” He says, sighing. “I’m trying to be light hearted!”  
“A dude had his flesh melted off and you’re trying to be ‘light hearted?’” Gwen says, incredulously.  
Scott shrugs.  
The bell rings.  
Gwen sighs. “Time to get to class, I think we need some distraction time,” she mutters.  
When I get to my first class of the day the teacher, Mr. Rogers, announces to the class that plans have changed last minute. “The principle has called for an emergency assembly for half the day to address the… incident… last night.”  
Everyone groans.  
“We just had one for Peter Parker a couple weeks ago, God!” Someone says.  
“HEY!” Mr. Rogers says, jabbing a finger at them. “Show some respect for the dead, young man!”  
We are all file into the gymnasium where the principal comes out and explains why she called us here. She then goes into detail about what happened last night. She mentions Mary Jane and Quick Silver by name.  
Quite suddenly, Mary Jane bursts out sobbing and has to have her gal pals hug her to keep her from falling off the bleechers she’s crying so hard.  
“Um… well then,” the principle mumbles.  
She motions for an unfamiliar man to take the stage. He starts speaking as though everyone knows who he is.  
“Who’s that?” I whisper to Gwen.  
“That's the local psychologist / counselor, Dr. Bruce Banner,” she whispers back.  
Dr. Banner goes through this whole spiel about healing deep wounds caused by trauma and a tums of other mushy gushy bullshit.  
Venom groans with boredom inside my head and I am inclined to agree with him. If anyone’s upset they just need to grow a pair, life sucks, they’re just going to need to deal.  
He transitions from talking about trauma to bringing up drugs and alcohol and partying and how that can lead down a road to destruction. He makes the bold claim that what happened last night could have been avoided if those things weren’t involved.  
There is a low collective groan from the audience as we have to sit through another hour and a half of a ‘don’t do drugs’ PSA.  
At long fucking last the assembly ends and we’re allowed to go to lunch.  
I sit down and wait for the others to get their food.  
As I wait, I notice Quick Silver, Misty, and Erin standing in line. Quick Silver looks genuinely pissed. He must’ve just realized his suit was stolen and must have a well placed hunch as to who did it.  
Soon the others sit and join me.  
As we sit and eat and chat, someone else walks over. We all look up. It’s the broken leg table girl from last night at the party.  
I never really paid that close attention to her appearance before. She’s fairly pretty. She has a dark tan skin tone, electric blue eyes so pale they border on icy grey, long lashes, and long kinda wavy black hair. She’s wearing a hoodie with a grey torso, darker grey arms, with several white stripes on the cuffs, and a white freaky looking ghost image on the back and a smaller version on the right breast pocket. She’s also wearing matching colored jeans with the same pleated knees as mine, and deep grey uggs.  
“Hi,” she says, boldly.  
“Um… hi?” Gwen says.  
“I’m sorry, I haven’t caught your name,” I say, awkwardly.  
“Oh, it’s Ava Starr,” she says.  
“Nice to meet you, I guess,” I say.  
She sits down right next to Scott.  
“Um, can we help you?” He says.  
“Yeah, you can. Tell me what the hell happened last night.”  
We all blink. “What do you mean?” I say with a fake scoff.  
She looks at me with a “not buying it” face. “You know what I fucking mean, she says, firmly”. She looks to Scott. “You had some, like, size changing suit. I thought I was losing my mind at first but, the more I thought about it, the more certain I got that something was up. So, what IS up?”  
Scott gulps. “I guess there’s no hiding it now, is there?”  
She smiles and shakes her head. She has jangly earrings that - well - jangle when she does so.  
Scott sighs and spills the beans about the whole thing.  
Ava goes from smarmy to shocked pretty quickly. I don’t think she was expecting half of the shit we tell her. By the end of lunch she just sits, looking rather dazed. “That’s… that’s fucking wild…” she murmurs.  
“Yeah, I know, right?” Gwen says. “Life’s been crazy for us for a while now.”  
“Please, promise me, you can’t tell ANYONE about this!” Scott says.  
“Not a problem,” Ava says. “Not as though anyone would believe me anyway.”  
Lunch ends and we all file out of the cafeteria.  
Peter walks with me, looking quite tired. “This shit is exhausting,” he mutters.  
“I know, right?” I say. “I was not expecting Marvel Falls to be this fucking turbulent when I came here.”  
As we walk, Peter suddenly stops. “Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me over. He motions to a poster on the wall. “Check it out!” It’s a flyer for a Fair that’s coming into town. “It’s here, today!” He says, excitedly. “I haven’t been to one of those in an eternity! You want to go, take our minds off all this heavy shit we’re dealing with?”  
“Gladly,” I say with a grin.  
…

WILLOW AN: So surprise surprise, last minute Mark came to me and said he got bored trying to come up with a nice little scene between them. In case it hasn’t been clear up until now, he’s not the most emotionally aware type of person. So, I’m taking over, you’re welcome!

Peter’s POV:

I wait for Eddie to finally leave the school building.  
I am anxious. This is the first time that we have ever hung out outside of school, out in public anyway. It is a pretty momentous occasion for me. I never hang out with anyone in or out of school.  
Our location is pretty special too, the Fair that’s just set up shop.  
I will admit that it’s only really special to Eddie. I can only assume that he has gone to them a lot, especially as a child. Lucky. He has parents who are willing to go and can afford it.  
I have never had either. For us a trip to goodwill around Christmas or birthdays is a treat. If it wasn’t for my younger sister who is the professional shoplifter of the family, we wouldn’t have any makeup in the house.  
I think it is going to be juvenile and overly cutesy, but it could be fun. I really only want to go just as an excuse to be with Eddie.  
I can’t explain why but I just can’t get the guy out of my head. He is always there, I am always thinking about him. He has even shown up in my dreams a few times and I just can’t figure out why! I do genuinely like him. He’s cool to hang out with. There is something about his attitude that always makes me smile. Makes me happy.  
It’s an odd sensation for me, one that I have not really experienced before. He is the only one that gets me and puts up with my shit. Nobody else ever has. Nobody has been genuinely interested in me or the way I act. About me in general.  
I love it. And I hate it. He is actively ignoring the fake Peter Quill, the easy one to hate, the shell. The protective layer of toughness and confidence and rebelliousness. It protects the real Peter that is buried inside. The underconfident, fearful, deeply depressed and unstable piece of human garbage that I really am. Eddie knows that it’s there and he is actively looking for it. It doesn’t need to be found. I don’t like the idea of somebody probing around and plucking out parts of me and examining them and judging them.  
I don’t want a critical eye to tell me what I already know. A pathetic broken little boy. I am well aware. I have had far too many “therapists,” school counselors, tell me that over the years.  
My wrists ache as I remember just a couple years ago. Eighth grade. The year that my Mom actually got married. For the first time in her life. To the biggest scumbag in all of North America. The first thing he did once he was a part of the family was slam me face first into a wall and almost break my arm because I refused to call him “Dad.” He isn’t my Dad and he never will be.  
Whoever that “real Dad” is, I really wish he would have used a condom.  
Eighth grade was a rough year for me and I took it out on myself. I stopped, somehow. The scars have healed, for now.  
If my current frustration keeps up, I can't guarantee that it won’t. The hardware store is only a couple blocks from the school… God, I really wish this would stop.  
I’m tired of being a little puppet on a string, danced around everywhere to little jigs against my will. Always new demands and new expectations.  
They want me to confirm everything and force me into all sorts of agendas and play nice with the system. To accept everything in my life without question. That is something that I refuse to do.  
My mom tried that. And how has it worked out for her? She’s spent fifty percent of her life barefoot and pregnant with this month’s crotch dumpling of unknown breeding and the other fifty percent groveling at the feet of those who would rather spit in her face then look at her all in a desperate attempt to gain some kind of respect as a human being. And failing at it.  
No, no, no, that is not the future for me. My life will never be like that. I will kill myself before that happens. I want more out of life, I want… hell, I don’t know what I really want.  
My thoughts are jarred when I look up and see Eddie walk out of the building, having finished up in the weight room.  
I know what I want now.  
I wave at Eddie and he walks up to me with his ever present and ever pleasant grin on his face.  
“Hey Peter, what’s up?”  
“The sky,” I say, looking up.  
The joke is so bad it actually does a complete three-sixty and becomes funny. We both crack up.  
“Are you ready to go?” Eddie asks.  
I nod. “Yeah, I guess.”  
We take the bus over to the Fairgrounds.  
On the way we talk and, though I try to keep cool and on top, I just can’t stop being giggly. It is utterly impossible with Eddie around. No matter what I do I come out sounding like an obsessed tween girl talking to her crush. What do I care, Eddie is my crush at this point! I have never met anyone who likes to talk more than Eddie.  
The way he gets interested in what I say, how fluid the conversations move and how drawn in I get into his own thoughts and feelings, it leaves me with a body filled with a torrent of emotions that threatens to shake me to pieces.  
I swear, I lose two hours in about two minutes. I really, REALLY enjoyed myself!  
I Think it helped that Eddie is here with me, he has gotten me to try things I never thought I would. New foods, games, activities. I would have ignored them all were I by myself. He forced me to do them at first and then I did them willingly, once I learned how truly fun they are.  
We play a lot of games for a few cents and I actually win a couple.  
I am shocked when Eddie tries one of those horrible ball throw games and gets the grand prize bucket on the first try. I am utterly stunned.  
His prize is a huge stuffed panda bear that is about half the size that I am. And he gives it to me.  
My face was hidden by it so he couldn’t see my face and how deeply I was blushing.  
Of course, he’ll have to keep it at his house for me. It isn’t as though I would have enough room for it. And I wouldn’t put it past “Dad” to throw it in the firepit as soon as he gets the chance just to remind everyone what a horrible person he is.  
We eat a lot of food that will probably clog the arteries in a heartbeat - no pun intended - but at least we’ll die well fed.  
After we eat we put my panda - now unimaginatively named Po - in the back seat of the truck. Eddie straps it in like a small child and that makes me laugh.  
We then go back into the Fair and go on some rides.  
We start small with the carousel and a couple other smallish rides like that and then work up to the magnum opus, a roller coaster. It isn’t the biggest thing in the world - obviously it needs to be easily deconstructable and transported since this is a traveling fair - but, despite its short stature, Eddie still seems a little freaked out.  
I’m a little shocked. He has Venom inside of him and, as such, battled a crazed serial killing alien to the death and yet he’s scared of a little roller coaster? I don’t know whether to laugh at or pity him.  
I want to go on and he seems determined to go on just for me which is a little flattering at first before I get mad at myself and shove that shit deep down.  
When we’re in the car and moments away from starting, Eddie grabs my hand and squeezes tight. He glances at me a second without saying anything before looking away.  
The cascade of emotions that befalls me is odd and confusing.  
The coaster starts and we both scream our lungs out as we go, rocketing down the track, flipping twisting and zooming all over the place before finally coming to a stop.  
Both of us are jittery, but ecstatic.  
Eddie pulls me into an abrupt hug and I am stiffened as I was unexpecting such an embrace. I eventually loosen up and hug him back, admitting to myself that it is pretty nice and sweet. I close my eyes and just feel his warmth and smell the scent of his lavender-rainwater shampoo.  
Then, I open my eyes and my stomach drops to my feet.  
Standing a few yards away are the rest of my family. Mom grips the hand of Beth Lynn to keep her from wandering off; Riley not looking at her phone for once as she makes direct eye contact with me; Step-Douche with his arms crossed and a look of lividness on his face.  
Abruptly I break the embrace and hike my thumb. “Hey, I could go for some more cotton candy, you know, that’s on the other side of the park,” I say, lowly, knowing Eddie’s super hearing will pick it up.  
“Why are we whispering?” He says.  
“Secrets are fun,” I say, before walking away.  
“Since when?” He says, utterly confused as to what is going on.  
...

Eddie’s POV:

I’m not sure what the hell exactly happened.  
This week, Monday, Peter was totally fine. He was happy and smiling all the time. He looked healthy and my super sense of smell didn’t pick up on any kind of sickness.  
We went to that carnival and had a blast. Well - for the first half anyway. The second half he seemed kind of distracted for some reason. He kept looking over my shoulders as well as his own, as though expecting to see someone.  
I asked him several times what his problem was but he insisted nothing was wrong. I assumed he was telling the truth. Looking back on it, it was most definitely not fine.  
The red flags kept rising higher when, instead of wanting to go home to get some proper sleep for school, he insisted on coming home with me so we could Netflix and chill with some Stranger Things, Season 3. He was super adimate about it and I just took it at face value. However, his unwillingness to leave, especially to go home, now strikes me as very worrying.  
Peter has just stopped coming to school for a solid week now.  
I have been texting him non stop but he has yet to reply to any of them.  
I would be lying if I said I'm not super worried.  
Today, Friday, I leave the school and am shocked to see Peter in the parking lot leaning against my truck.  
I walk over, perhaps a little too intently. “Hey, man, where were you?” I have a smile on my face. I am just happy to see him, see that he’s alright.  
That quickly vanishes as I see that Peter doesn’t look in the happy mood per say.  
“I just needed some time to myself,” he says. He doesn’t look directly at me.  
Ok, I'm worried again.  
We get in the truck and I drive us through town. Going directly, and about five miles over the speed limit, getting home would take a simple fifteen minutes. However, I turn off and take the scenic route. I can tell that whatever we are about to talk about, there is going to be far more than fifteen minutes needed.  
Peter’s outfit seems to match whatever mood he is in perfectly. He is wearing eyeshadow so heavy he looks like a raccoon - or are those real rings from lack of sleep? - as well as black lipstick and a fresh coat of black fingernail polish. His clothes - all black - look disheveled and not meticulously planned out as they usually are.  
“So… what were you thinking about?” I ask after quite a while of silence.  
“I was thinking…” Peter pauses. “Hell, I don’t know what I was thinking, really.”  
“What’s wrong? Please, tell me. I want to know. I want to help.”  
Peter grins, but in a pained way, a tragic way. “This is exactly what it is,” Peter says. “You’re like a Mom, always on the watch and always ready to help.” He shakes his head. “How can something be so right, but also, so wrong?”  
“What do you mean?” I ask.  
“Us,” Peter says. “It’s not right. The way I think, the way I feel, the dreams that I have, and the things that I want, they are all wrong! Just wrong!” He’s crying now. “The way I feel when I'm with you is… wrong.”  
He is hugging himself and rocking slightly in his seat with nervousness.  
His sleeves are long and pulled over his hands.  
I have never seen him this vulnerable before. He is always so snarky and so cool and always so on top. Now he looks lost and miserable. This isn’t normal and I don’t like it.  
I feel my face grow warm when he mentions, “how I feel when I'm with you.”  
Does it really mean that I wasn't the only one to notice something? I thought that this was just another dumb crush of mine that would never go anywhere or become anything. I never thought… I think I have a pretty good idea what the core of Peter’s problem here is.  
“The way you feel about a guy is wrong?” I ask. “A fellow male.”  
Peter nods, not right away. He has to work at it.  
“Why is that an issue? Your family?”  
Peter suddenly explodes out of nowhere so violently that I almost crash into an oncoming car. “You mean the group of complete dysfunctional strangers who all just kind of exist under the same roof in a trashy little shack and hate each other? In that case, yes!”  
It isn’t aimed at me, the rage, but I sure do feel a lot of heat from it. It’s like an atom bomb going off, the hatred consuming everything in its path, a fiery hatred of every living breathing person in his life that the pits of hell could not possibly match.  
It lasts only a brief moment before the dreary sorrow takes over again. “Yeah,” he says, barely a mumble.  
I veer off the road and pull into a parking lot to a campsite long closed for the end of the season. It is a little box surrounded by thick trees on all sides. We’re cut off from everything and everyone. No distractions, no excuses, no nothing.  
“We need to talk.”  
Peter is quiet and I can tell that his own loss of control, something he has obviously trained himself to wield virtually his whole life, has really startled and taken it out of him.  
I just sit and wait patiently with my hands folded. “I have all the time in the world, right now.”  
Finally, Peter continues. “Those people have no standards for anything. Everything can become totally dysfunctional, go to utter shit and go up in flames and nobody cares. It’s just another day in paradise, nothing to be concerned about. But the moment that I act the way I do, talk the way I want to talk and love who I wanna love and suddenly I'm the bad guy, I'm the one who is out of line, I'm the one with the issues, I'm the one to destroy the credibility of the whole family. Because, you know, we have such an unbelievable legacy to uphold! Wouldn’t want to tarnish that!”  
He punches the dashboard suddenly. I wince heavily at the crack I hear. Peter’s face goes bright red and he massages his knuckles, now bleeding slightly.  
Are you ok -”  
“Nothing’s broken,” he mutters.  
As he tends his hand, his baggy sleeves fall back a little and I get a glimpse of his wrists. The old scars Peter assured me were from a long time ago, the ones I could have only assumed to be from self harm, are now reopened. They are joined by fresh cuts, bloody and intended.  
My stomach clenches.  
I feel a flair of anger and guilt. I want to - need to blame someone. His family, the people at school, myself, SOMEONE!  
I feel tears begin to rush from my own eyes and I fight to keep them at bay. I’m overwhelmed and confused and suddenly really don’t want to talk anymore.  
Peter sees me and sighs. “Eddie, please, don’t blame yourself.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I've dragged you into this, I'm so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, Eddie, you’re perfect. You’re just the innocent bystander in all of this. I’ve changed my mind, please, please just stay that way! Just go, get out while you still can! You have a perfect life, cherish it. Don’t ever complain, don’t ever take it for granted.  
He sees the look on my face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere,” I say.  
“Just go,” he says, as more of an order. Just go and never look back. Go and find someone better than this!” He yanks his sleeves down.  
“STOP IT!” I shriek at the top of my lungs, my voice filling the tight vehicle, and throw up my hands. My face is redder than I ever thought possible and I am full on crying now. I can’t help it. I’m furious with Peter now, for the first time.  
“Just fucking stop it!” I say, tears wracking my chest. “Please!” There is a brief pause as I breath in heavily, tears continuing to stream down my face. “Peter, you don’t seem to get it!” I say. “You are perfect! You are a beautiful perfect person! You’ve been through so much shit that you don’t deserve to! Your deadbeat Mom, your abusive Stepfather, being kidnapped by Misty! You don’t deserve to be in pain for ANYTHING and CERTAINLY not for being gay, or bisexual, or pansexual, or whatever you feel! They’re the ones with the problem if they think you’re the bad person in the situation. You are NOT broken, you are NOT worthless, you are NOT unworthy of being loved.” I reach out and grab his hand and squeeze it tightly. “I am here for you. All of us are. Gwen and Scott love you, you’ve been more of a friend to them than Peter Parker ever was! I mean he called you a fuckface of something - I don’t remember, it was like the first day of school.” I shake my head. “I’m rambling,” I mumble.  
Peter just looks at me, his eyeshadow leaving ashen tracks down his cheeks.  
“You’re fine,” he chokes out.  
I unbuckle my seat with my free hand and abruptly pull Peter into a tight hug and grip him tightly.  
And that’s it, he starts full on bawling into my shoulder, drenching my hoodie in mascara tears. I don’t even care, I just want him to be here, held tight, and knowing that he is loved and loved by me the most.  
The entire time Venom vibrates and squirms inside of my body, confused and concerned and not sure what to do or say or feel. He extends a tendril from my shoulder and wraps it around Peter, the tip of the tendril branching out into a surprisingly well defined humanoid hand. He hugs Peter just as tightly.  
“Thanks… Venom…” Peter manages to get out through sobs.  
After about half an hour of nerve wracking misery, we both finally get our issues out and then pull apart.  
I take a deep breath before starting the car once more and getting back on the road.  
As we travel down the road towards my house, Peter notices I’m not slowing down for his house.  
“Hey, where are we going?” He says.  
“Home,” I say simply.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You’re staying with me. If you think I’m going to let those shitheads you live with lay a finger on you again, you’re dead wrong.”  
“Your Dad hates me, he won’t allow it.”  
“He doesn’t ACTUALLY know you,” I say. “He’s a chill dude, one night of conversation and he’ll come around.”  
“And If he doesn’t?”  
“He will,” I say firmly.  
Peter squeezes my hand and we stay silent for the rest of the ride.  
We get home just as Dad gets off shift. He sees Peter and gets that “rage masked with fake politeness” demeanor to him.  
“We need to talk,” I say.  
“Well, hello to you too,” Dad says.  
I push Peter back with my arm a little and walk up to Dad.  
“It’s important,” I say firmly. “Please, I just need you to listen to me!” He opens his mouth to protest but before he can say anything I cut him off saying, “there’s a second side to every story. There’s a whole different life behind closed doors. Sheeple narratives aren’t necessarily true. You, as a cop, have to know that!”  
Dad glances over at Peter and bites his lip. He then looks back at me. “You need to discuss something with me about him. What would that be exactly?”  
We go inside and I make us all a pot of coffee. And we end up going through two more as Peter spills his guts to Dad until nightfall.  
He just lets everything he’s been through spill out into the open. Things that I never knew and never would have guessed would be possible for someone to experience and still remain a functional human. It makes my depression after Mom died look like small potatoes. All of Peter’s misdemeanors were symptoms of a larger issue at home that had bubbled to the surface and were expressed through acting out.  
Or, in the case of several shoplifting cases, he was stealing as many small food items as possible because he’d been arbitrarily thrown out of the house and, since it was on a friday night and he had no money, was unable to get anything to eat until Monday morning’s school breakfast. He was just trying to get something to eat. He ended up sleeping in the crawl tube in the local kid’s park for two nights until he was allowed back inside.  
Peter will intermittently cry as he explains his past. By the time we finish the third pot of coffee he seems utterly exhausted. “That’s the basics, he mumbles as his closing statement.”  
“All that was the basics?” Dad says, his voice muffled a little as he speaks, his chin rests on his hands as Peter talks. There is a moment of silence before he speaks again. “Peter, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know any of this. Why didn’t you say any of this before?”  
“Because I didn’t think that anyone would listen to me. You didn’t, until Eddie said something.”  
That sentence, while innocuous, visibly pains Dad. He nods. “I… I don’t deny that. He stands up and collects our cups. You’re seventeen, right?” He says.  
Peter nods.  
“When’s your birthday?”  
He shrugs. “Around six months.”  
“Tomorrow, grab anything from home that you want to keep with you. Consider this your home. As long as you’re a minor, I can assure you, you are safe here. I will do everything in my power to help and protect you.”  
Peter is momentarily silent, Dad’s words just washing over him, before he nods. A stoked smile slowly spreads. “Thanks,” he chokes out as another round of tears comes.  
“I’m afraid we don’t have a spare room here,” Dad says.  
“It’s ok, I’m a big boy, I can share my room,” I say.  
Dad nods. “Alright.”  
Dad goes and gets a sleeping bag for tonight and sends us to bed for tomorrow.  
“Don’t worry about getting up,” he says. “I’m sad to inform you both that Eddie has a cold and is unfortunately going to be out of school for a couple days as we harbor the dreaded school skipper, Peter Quill.”  
Dad grins and we both grin back, gratefully.  
…

Upstairs, in my room, Peter lays next to me in my bed. We just stare at one another intensely, it never becomes awkward.  
It still amazes me that someone who was so pessimistic and cold just a few weeks prior could become this soft, this warm, this fuzzy towards me. It is amazing to think.  
I feel like I have finally unlocked something after so long of searching. A part of Peter that has been forcibly buried a long time ago. Of course, I always knew it was there. It would peek out at times when we would talk.  
The clock in the hall chimes its little ditty and sounds out the time. Ten o’clock. It’d probably be time for him to leave were he to go home.  
It’s as though Peter is reading my mind when he says, “I’m glad I don’t have to go,” he says. “I like it here… I like it here... with you.”  
He has a hard time getting it out. I can tell that he has wanted to say this before now but has been afraid of it being taken out of context. Judging by the fiery look in his eyes mixed with the helplessness in his voice, I don't think he really cares anymore. He’s being brave. I think… I think he wants it to be taken out of context.  
“Eddie… you… you are… you are absolutely the most wonderful person I have ever met,” Peter says. “You don’t make me feel like shit. You don’t have to assert dominance over every stupid little thing that comes along. You’re super athletic, not for others, but for yourself. You actually care about a piece of shit like me. Nobody else in this entire stinking world ever has. Trillions of people and you are the only one…”  
“Peter, you’re not ‘shit,’” I say. “Not even close. A wet fart maybe…”  
Peter laughs and rolls his eyes.  
Peter’s hands worry the comforter under us. I reach out and put mine to his to calm it. He goes rigid. Then, he holds my hand. Tightly. And I squeeze right back. We hold each other in a sort of death grip, as though we need to hold on for dear life, or risk one of us falling away to our death. We remain like that for some time. It’s like our grip is cementing our words, taking them from stupid, even generic crap to something far, far more meaningful. Giving them life, making them real.  
“I’m so glad to be staying here,” Peter says with a bit of bitter laughter, a bit of the old him returning. “I really don’t want to have to go home to my stepfather,” ever. “Not after today, everything that has happened. It wouldn’t be right. Like dumping gasoline on a rosebush.” He scoffs at his own words. “Wow, I am pretentious, aren’t I?”  
“I like to think of it more like poetry,” I say. “I’ve mentioned it before, but poems kind of get my dander up.”  
Peter grins.  
I am not sure how, but we have subconsciously drifted very close to one another. Too close. Far into our personal spaces. They overlap now. I think… I think we share one single personal space now. Us against the world, the dynamic duo.  
“I should get up,” Peter says suddenly. “It’s getting late, I need to set up my sleeping bag.”  
I continue to grip his hand, firm, yet gentle. “No, you don’t,” I whisper.  
I lean in closer until I find my lips brushing Peter’s.  
“Eddie?” Peter mumbles so soft it is barely audible.  
“Don’t be scared,” I whisper back, just as softly.  
And with that, we’re kissing. It starts out as barely anything, just our lips slightly touching, barely. Then, as the moments fly by we are kissing harder.  
Peter’s fingers run through my hair.  
I grip the front of his shirt as though to ensure he won’t pull away. I don’t think he will.  
My other hand is behind Peter’s head, holding him firmly and closely. My thumb caresses the spot where his neck and skull meet.  
I don’t know if the moment goes on for too long, too short, just right, I can’t comprehend much of anything. There is only Peter. Only him, here with me, in my grasp.  
Finally, all the cards are on the table. All the secrets are revealed.  
The moment ends at… some point. And we just lay side by side and hold one another and listen to the two man rhythmic chorus of our breathing.  
It is getting late. Our eyes begin to close.  
We kick our shoes off and I throw the comforter over us both, still fully clothed.  
Judging by the look on Peter's face as we drift off, he’s happy.  
I’ve rescued him. I’m the knight in shining armor. I don’t feel exactly like a hero per say, but I do feel as though I have found the fair damsel. I have found the one. The one who matters in this sea of monsters, literal and figurative. I now have a real reason for staying in this miserable little town.

LUCAS AN: Wow, Willow, you actually wrote a halfway decent chapter. I’m impressed! That was kind of sweet, I’m not going to lie! A little corny at times - ok, really corny - but sweet! : )

WILLOW AN: Thanks! <3 I tried my hardest with it! I just wanted to do something heartwarming! Thank you so much for the compliment!

LUCAS AN: Yeah, well, don’t get used to it!

WILLOW AN: Lol.  
…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
So i kinsa handed thew chapter off to willow cause i wasnt interested in finishing it fluffy sahit juat isn t my thing i hope ecsrt body can undertand that!!!! But ai dis have a new scebae i mad and have wanted xto include it!!!! >: )

We both wake up in the middle of the night, horny as hell.  
We both get completely naked and touch each other's dicks a bit.  
Peter turns me around and grabs my ass and says how good it is to finally get it in person.  
I wrap my mouth around his dick and take one suck on it because I want to know what it feels like and I love it! It’s warm and hard, and I would love to give a proper blowjob at some point and swallow a load as well.  
Peter says not to just yet because he wants to save all his cum for my ass!  
Peter stands and I get on my knees and suck and lick his balls. I didn't realize how much I would enjoy this and think I have a new addiction for balls in my mouth!  
His balls are smooth and tight and while I suck them, his dick gets fully hard. I licked them, I suck each testicle individually, then take his whole scrotum in my mouth and suck on both.  
I really can't believe how much I enjoy sucking balls... it’s never really been a fantasy of mine but now I think I’d like to do it every day if I can!  
We’re both fully naked now.  
I lay on my back and ask him to sit on my face and teabag me. He gets on top and lowers his balls in my mouth and I continue sucking. I have a good view of his butt in my face too and didn't mind that either! It’s round and tight and sexy as hell!  
I like being teabagged and continued to gargle on his balls while he lowers himself down to my crotch and begins to suck on my balls in a 69 position. We do this for a while.  
I take my quick suck on his dick but he stops me. He’s leaking precum at this point and I get a taste. It’s sweet and I like it!  
After our 69ing and ball sucking, he tells me to lay face down on the bed. I get into position and he uses a bottle of hand lotion for lube. He plays with my ass for a bit and compliments it, squeezing my cheeks and slapping it with an open palm, making a whip crack sound.  
He slapped his erection against it, and places it in my crack and rubs his dick up and down between my buttcheeks.  
He asks if he can eat my ass and I agree. He licks up and down my crack, sucks on my taint, and pushes his tongue into my hole. Venom gets into it as well and manifests his tongue in my hole and frenches Peter as he works my boi pussy.  
I’ve never had that much attention to that area before and honestly it’s awesome!  
My whole body is tingling and I’m aching for him to put it in by the time he starts applying lotion to my hole. He mostly just rubs a lot of lotion on the outside of my anus and only puts one finger in a little bit before lubing up his cock and penetrates me. I can feel my ass stretching and it’s so erotic, having a dick being pushed into me. Eventually it’s all the way in.  
Peter flips me over into a missionary position and starts fucking me like a woman. I wrap my legs around him and push my butt back into his dick the best I can.  
He holds me by my hips and pushes and pulls me, using me as the world’s biggest fleshlite.  
I put my legs up and he sucks on my toes and licks my feet while fucking me, which I like a lot more than I thought I would.  
I then lay back and put my legs back all the way behind my head with my ass way up and ask him to fuck me like that.  
He gets on top and holds my ankles down and puts it in. I gasp with utter pleasure as it enters me once more. He starts pounding me again, making me want to scream in pleasure. His dick is going almost all the way out and back in at full speed, I can hear it slapping, feel his balls hitting my crack, and I feel like my butt has become a pussy.  
I feel really accomplished actually being able to take a dick properly. And really, being fucked this way is the best sexual feeling I’ve ever had - way, way better than putting my dick in a pussy!  
We do it in this position the longest, with my legs over my head, and it’s definitely my favorite.  
He edges with my ass, pulls out, spits in my ass, and pushes it back in. When he pulls out, I feel myself gape. I've never had anything bigger than a small butt plug in me before and never had a proper gape and I find I really enjoy the feeling. It’s a bit scary having my ass stretch that much but feels so good.  
Peter spreads my cheeks and tells me he can see into my hole. I can feel air and lube in it when I clench and unclench my anus.  
He spits inside and also holds the lotion bottle over my gape and squeezes lotion into it.  
It’s really kinky and it’s the first time I’ve felt completely lost in sex and horniness.  
He pounds me more with my legs up, then moans loud and cums inside of my butt. It’s a long, shaking orgasm and he seems very satisfied.  
I wasn't sure if I would be able to cum myself, but I can feel the nut in my ass as he starts cumming and as some of it immediately leaks out of my hole. It immediately sends me over the edge and I gasp loudly as boiling jets of semen explode from my cock all over my chest and face.  
Peter lets go of my legs and I sprawl over the bed, sweaty and covered in jizz. He gets down on his hands and knees like an animal and laps up the cum on my chest like a dog, his sexy eyes never leaving mine.  
It’s at that moment, both of us still filled with residual horniness, my cum on my chest, his cum in my guts, that I realize that Peter living here is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! 

LUCAS AN: Fuck. You. Mark. For. Making. Me. Edit. That. You need to start editing your own smut my dude, I don’t know how much more of this I can take!

WILLOW AN: Yeah, Mark! I mean, it was hot, but super not appropriate at the moment, god! >: (


	17. Teacher Troubles & the Sexual Liberation of Eddie Brock [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has sexual encounters with basically every male character and everybody clapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LUCAS AN: There are A TON of sex scenes in this chapter. one is a teacher-student and the other is a BDSM hentai... thing with Venom. If you're uncomfortable with that, you can probably skip.

Today I walk through the halls with Scott and Peter.  
I’m wearing a Green and black checkered flannel button up shirt (it’s unbuttoned and, because I just got out of the gym and the tank top I was wearing was drenched, my chest is out. The teachers all love me so they’re willing to not make a fuss over it), blue jeans with bleach stains and tons of layered rips all the way from the thighs to beyond the knees, heeled biker boots, and about a bazillion bracelets along with my silver watch.  
Peter is wearing a yellow t-shirt under a brown and red button up hand knitted shirt with a moose on the back (he found it in Dad’s storage stuff and thought it was hilarious so I let him borrow it), white jeans, a pair of rugged looking blue high tops and a bunch of hot topic necklaces and bracelets.  
Scott is dressed simply in classic grey athletic shorts, a white shirt, with a hoodie with a cartoon alien face on the back, and white under armour socks with Adidas flip flop sandals (the tackiness of which being ironic), and a backward baseball cap that the teachers only let him have because they find him funny and a generally good dude. He smells of deodorant with a hint of sweat since just finished gym along with me.  
We all walk through the school hallways after lunch break. Peter has his arm around my neck comfortingly. We don’t care who sees.  
I need to get to my locker and get some books for my next class most of the conversation but just thought I would drag it on just to look at him and feel his arm around me a bit longer.  
Suddenly he breaks away. “Shit, I forgot something, gotta go!” Peter says. “Love you babe!” He kisses me before running down the hallway.  
I stare after him dreamily.  
Suddenly there are fingers clicking in front of my face.  
“Bro?” Scott says.  
“What?” I ask and blink at him.  
“I was talking to you.”  
“About what?” He pauses for a moment and looks down at his shorts.  
“Dude what the fuck are you doing?” I say quietly.  
He puts his hands inside his pants, digging around and starts to pull out something. “I just bought some weed, I thought I would hide it inside my pants for safe keeping,” he says looking at me grinning again.  
“Well don’t take it out, are you crazy!” I snap.  
“No, just a little blitzed is all.”  
I look into his eyes for a second and my gut tightens when I realize his eyes are super dilated to the point he nearly looks like a shark that's smelt blood in the water.  
“You really shouldn’t do that here, good God!” I hiss.  
He waves me off. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. So, anyway, you in?”  
I've never smoked weed at all, however I cannot refuse my close friend's big grin of his, and, so far, all the things I have done with him hasn't gotten me into trouble....  
I break away from Scott to get my stuff from my locker.  
As I rush there, get my stuff, and then head back towards my Health class, I see other students scrambling about. Most of the students are already in class meaning that I have to hurry.  
The second bell rings, indicating that those who aren't in class already will likely face detention. I start walking to health class in defeat, and notice the rest of the students who were scrambling about are doing the same.  
As I walk into class, about a minute late I see a god standing before me. A dreamy look comes over face as I see the teacher talking to the class.  
Mr. Hawkeye is such a major fucking hottie. I’m a little attracted to older dudes. He’s in his mid thirties but still looks twenty five. He wears a grey sweater with a brown vest over it, darker grey slacks, and nice black dress shoes.  
When he sees me enter, he grabs a marker and writes my name on the board. He's one of those types of teachers, God dangit.  
“Come on, Eddie, you’re usually on time!” He says, sounding mildly disappointed.  
“Sorry,” I mutter.  
“I know, you’re a good kid, you usually are. Go ahead take a seat.” he says sternly. “You’re going to get a short after school detention tomorrow, I’m sorry.”  
I take a seat and take my time checking Mr. Hawkeye out. He has a nice bulge in his pants and some serious man cake in the back, if you know what I mean!  
“Alright, everyone,” he says. “As I said on Friday, we’ll be conducting our sexual education project since I was unable to get the supplies yesterday.”  
I bolt upright. Project? What project? I was so zonked on Friday, freaking out over Carnage, I didn’t pay attention!  
He continues saying, “Since there are 29 students here today we will be separating into groups of 3, meaning that there will be a group of two and I'll be joining the last group. After the groups are together, I will give out the assignment. Are there any questions?”  
The class remains silent, but of course the class brainiac, Sue Storm, raises her hand. She’s always such a know-it-all smart mouth in every class, I wish she’d been possessed by a Symbiote, beheaded, and eaten instead of Johnny.  
“Why are we rediscussing sexual education?” Sue asks. “We went through it already through the first years of high school.”  
“That is a good question,” He says. “Currently you guys are in the time of your life where you are most likely to make a mistake which you will regret for the rest of your life.”  
That gets most of the students attention.  
“This class today will help you protect yourself from that mistake. Any other questions?”  
The class remains silent this time.  
He then starts calling out all of the groups.  
I end up with Scott, which is nice, but also - oh god NO - Misty.  
I expect her to act all weird and bitchy but, on the contrary, she actually comes over with a smile on her face and says, “hi,” very politely.  
She’s dressed in a punk style outfit today that makes her look like Joan Jett. her hair is teased and doused in hair sprey, he has heavy black makeup on, she has a ripped up crop top shirt under a denum jacket with biker patches sewn on all over it, a black skirt with white skulls on it, ripped fishnets, and lesbian biker boots (despite her being straight).  
She sits right next to me in a casual position. Odd.  
“Ok,” Mr. Hawkeye says, “Now that you are all within your groups I can give out today's assignment. Today we will practice putting condoms on these plastic penises.”  
The entire class laughs, that's until he empties a bag full of about a dozen dildos.  
I'm shocked, and I'm sure the rest of the class is as well. This is not what we did throughout the earlier years in sexual education. Normally we would put it on a cylinder that looks nothing like a penis.  
“This is the best way to teach about sexual education,” Mr. Hawkeye says. “I'm sure the shock factor will help the class remember today's lesson. It will also help you understand what size condom you need, for those who think they need a magnum.”  
Everyone just stares at him, mouths slightly agape.  
“You can begin by assigning someone in your group to choose a plastic penis, there are 10 penises here, and quite the variety to choose from. There are also condoms in this bag, make sure you choose the correct condom for your plastic penis, remember this is a learning experience so you have to make the right choices. You can switch plastic penises with other groups when you succeed in putting a condom on your plastic penis. I will give you students 30 minutes.” He flutters his hands dismissively and says, “begin.”  
“So, who’s going to get the dildo?” I ask.  
“Um… no offense, but I refuse to touch those!” Misty says.  
I don’t really want to either, it just feels weird to see those in general let alone a school environment.  
I wonder who modeled those for the molds anyway? Must be some kind of porn star, they have a ton of veins and stuff and a lot of them are so fucking huge. I shudder. Peter wasn’t half as big as some of those, they must hurt like hell doing anal!  
“We’ll get Scott,” I say. I turn to look behind me where he’s sitting and find he’s passed out from the weed. “Dude!” I whine. “Come on, go get the dildo, please!”  
I glance up at the front of the room and slowly but surely dildos are going.  
I get up to try to get Scott's attention again but he seems out of it. We both try to jostle him but he's not even responding to his own name at this point. I'm about to give up when I find Mr. Hawkeye next to me.  
“So, what's the problem?” He asks.  
Misty and I point to Scott.  
Mr. Hawkeye has a grin on his face as he lets me know that he has a plan.  
He goes to the front of the class and comes back with his hand behind his back, then places a big brown dildo right next to Scott's face.  
He then nudges Scott until there is a groan coming from him. He wakes up to find the big brown dildo right next to his face and the blood has left his face like he has seen the devil.  
My mouth goes dry as I personally look at the brown dildo, then up to Mr. Hawkeye's reaction.  
“WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!” Scott says, slapping the dildo to the floor.  
Mr. Hawkeye seems to be pleased with himself that he managed to get Scott's attention as he walks away.  
“You would know ‘what the fuck’ if you paid attention to the teacher,” I reply back. I bend over and grab the dildo and shake it in front of Scott's face.  
Misty starts to laugh.  
Scott blushes red as a beat and he snatches it from me and sticks it to the desk with a loud slap. It wiggles when he lets go and the whole class roars with laughter making him blush even more.  
“Do you need me to remind you that the assessment is we need to put a condom on the dick?” I ask, jokingly.  
“Yeah, yeah,” I know, Scott mutters. “Where is the condom?” he yawns.  
I look at the front of the class and remember that the condoms are contained in the bag up front.  
I look at the dildo and wonder aloud what size condom would fit this monster.  
“Try Magnum XL,” Misty says. “It’s awfully… large.”  
“Yeah, do that,” Scott mumbles before resting on his arm again.  
I sigh and walk up to the front of the class, it seems most of the students have returned back to their seats and have started playing around with the “plastic penises.”  
I look at the bag and the mess of the students, and notice that one dildo has been left behind, meaning that one group hasn't gotten up to get the last dildo.  
The floor and desk are littered with a variation of condoms, I start searching.  
“Find the right size yet?” Mr. Hawkeye asks.  
“No sir,” I reply back.  
“He takes a pause before asking, “What size are you looking for?”  
“Magnum XL,” I reply back, fast.  
“There aren’t any in that bag.”  
“Oh, well I think we need a Magnum XL, it’s a pretty big cock if you know what I mean.”  
“I've got some of my own, you can borrow one of those,” he replies with a stretch.  
I can’t help but question why he has a Magnum XL condom of his own, especially in his front desk.  
I go around his desk to grab the condom from his hand and notice a noticeable size bulge in his jeans.  
I look up at his face again and get flustered, and rush back to the group.  
Scott grabs the dildo, which was sitting on the other side of the desk from me, and asks me where the lube is.  
I look at him confused again.  
“The lube, where is the lube?” Scott says, looks at me funny.  
I look at him equally as funny.  
“You can't just stick a condom on a dick like this,” Scott says, getting a little annoyed.  
“And you would know this… why?” Misty asks.  
“Because I have a large cock, if you must know,” he mutters.  
“T.M.I!” Misty says sticking her tongue out.  
“Yeah, I thought so,” He mutters. “Anyway, lube?”  
“The teacher didn't mention anything about lube,” I say.  
“He might be testing our knowledge.”  
“I doubt it, there isn't any lube up on the desk.”  
“You need to lube it up,” Scott insists.  
I look at him puzzled yet again. He can't expect me to stop asking questions when he keeps saying stupid stuff.  
“With what then?” I ask  
“Spit.”  
I didn't expect to hear that from him.  
“Come on, Eddie my boy, you’re the gay one, you do it!” He giggles, his dilated eyes unfocused. He's starting to push the dildo up towards my mouth, I instinctively open.  
“He's right.” Mr. Hawkeye suddenly says, walking up. “I didn't supply lube, I was hoping you would think to use another form of lube, smart thinking Scott.”  
“But you don't need to stick it in your mouth, you could have just spat on it, Eddie.”  
I look up at Mr. Hawkeye, standing right next to me. I'm suddenly feeling the warmth from his bulge next to my face. Or maybe that's just my face heating from embarrassment. This would normally be a memory for the “spank bank,” if I weren't dying from embarrassment.  
Gwen, who’s also in this class, overhears what’s going on and blinks in utter astonishment. “Sir? Isn’t this, like, illegal? This has to be illegal, right? Bringing in highly detailed dildos and asking us to… spit… on them… this feels very sketchy and inappropriate! There are FRESHMAN in here! Anna Marie’s only 14!”  
“Oh, please, I’m sure she’s a slut,” Mr. Hawkeye says, waving her concerns away.

LUCAS AN: Um… Mark… why… Why did you write this? Why was this necessary? Do you need to talk to your psychologist again?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
look lucas you act like 14 yolds cant be slyutty listtle bicthes but rthey toatlly can ok Stop thinkong evweryone is a little angel cause they tota;lly arent get that annd dont bring up my fucking peraonal sjhit in the docs i hate it when you fickijng do sdthat you asshole!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LUCAS AN: Mark, you’re scaring me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
ok thewmn - you be scarred you fucking prep you be mad im flipping youh off theoruigj yhe sctreen right noe!!!!!!!

LUCAS AN: I feel uncomfortable leaving that in, I normally don’t like interfering with the story but I feel like I should here! : (

“Don’t worry, Gwen,” Mr. Hawkeye says. “I cleared it with the principle already. She thinks it’s alright as long as it’s educational. It’s not as though they’re real in any case. It’s better for kids to have a better idea what they’re getting into regarding sex. It’s better to show kids how their bodies work and not leave it as a vague abstract. It doesn’t help anything and only aggravates the underlying issues of the sexual promiscuity teenagers naturally feel by design.”  
Gwen considers. “Alright… I guess that sounds reasonable… I think.” 

LUCAS AN: there we go, less pseudo-pedo and actually a little educational!

I sigh and take the dildo and spit on it. I’m glad I brushed my teeth this morning. Jesus, I was not expecting this!  
Suddenly, a piece of paper is set next to all of us.  
“Sorry, guys,” Mr. Hawkeye says, “I forgot to hand these worksheets out first!”  
Everyone groans.  
I didn’t bother grabbing a pencil because I didn’t think I’d need it. Scott has passed out again, I'll grab him one too. I get two pencils from my binder. They’re Bic brand mechanical pencils. I refuse to use regular pencils, they drive me nuts when the points dull down, it grinds my gears!  
I turn around and am taken aback.  
Misty has moved the dildo from Scott’s desk to hers and is jerking it off while looking in my direction. Her fingers are dripping with my saliva and her face is somewhat dazed with a Manson Girl look on her face.  
I walk back over and point to the dildo, grossed out. “I thought you didn’t want to touch it,” I say.  
“I changed my mind,” she says, her voice dreamy and unfocused.  
I sit back down and shift uncomfortably.  
She wipes her hand off on her skirt all except for a single finger that she covertly places in her mouth.  
That is fucking weird!  
“It's about time you get the condom on, don't you think?” Mr. Hawkeye says. “You will be the last group in class at this rate.”  
I look around and notice that most groups are back to their desks.  
“Damn it,” I mutter. “Here, I can put the condom on.” I take the dildo away from Misty, quickly open the condom package, and easily enough, have the condom wrapped on the dildo perfectly.  
Mr. Hawkeye praises my work and asks us to finish the written work. It’s basically asking about all of our previous knowledge with Sexual Education, what we know about STI's / STD's, how to perform safe sex when the time comes, and what's the difference between bacteria, viruses, fungi and parasites.  
I sigh and count 7 pages we have to fill out.  
Class drifts on and the end of the day is approaching.  
I'm finally done and notice that Mr. Hawkeye is going around the class giving each student a quick talk. I'm assuming it's about today's exercise.  
He comes by and reminds me about my detention. I get mad at myself, and at him for remembering. I was hoping he would be a cool teacher and just forget about the ordeal.  
He looks to Misty. “Miss Que, could you not pretend to stimulate the prosthetic please?”  
I glance back to her. She’s fucking doing it again while staring at me, the creeper!  
While she’s weird with the dildo, she is knowledgeable with the worksheets and between her and I we finish first and jostle Scott so he can quickly copy it before the end of class.  
Once the bell rings I take no time to leave.  
I glance back to see Misty still staring at me. She gives a little wave and I wave back, awkwardly.  
…

After school Peter and I drive in my truck over to his house.  
We’ve taken my truck today specifically so we can load all his stuff into the backend. We're taking pretty much everything except the furniture.  
When we get there Peter's mom steps out. She has a smile on her face. “Oh, Peter, you're back. Good, I need you to watch Beth Lynn. I have a late brunch to get to-”  
“I won't be here,” Peter says.  
His mother's smile fades. “Excuse me?”  
Peter shifts uncomfortably. “Mom... I'm moving out.”  
His mother goes from confused to angry like a switch was flipped. “EXCUSE ME?”  
“Mom!” Peter snaps, “don't yell at me, please!”  
“I’m your mother, I can yell all I want!”  
“That’s exactly why I’m leaving!” Peter yells. “I’m tired of staying somewhere with a bunch of miserable shitheads that make my life miserable!” Peter is starting to tear up. “You make my life a living hell, and for what? Because I like dudes? Because you just naturally hate me? Whatever the reason, I'm done!”  
The door opens and, to my dismay, Step-Douche steps out. “What’s going on?” He demands.  
“Peter’s ‘moving out,’” Peter’s Mom says.  
Step-Douche flips out. He starts screaming about how Peter is needed, how he’s abandoning his family, how he’s a miserable piece of shit, and doesn’t deserve “the niceties” Step-Douche “allowed” him to have. He also calls both of us the F slur. Nice.  
Peter just stands and takes it, his body quaking with rage.  
Venom screams in my head and bubbles beneath my skin, desperate to leap out and eat both of these people. And while I would like nothing more than to devour them and be done with it, even with all of the turmoil, I doubt Peter would be too thrilled with that prospect.  
Suddenly, Peter snaps. He marches to the truck, gets his backpack and pulls his Star Lord gun from it. He points it at both of them and they gasp. He cocks it and it crackles with bluish energy at the c-shaped gun’s tips.  
“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!” Peter says evenly, though through gritted teeth. “I’m nearly 18, I’m nearly an adult. I have the ok from the Sheriff to do so, don’t test me!”  
“Are you threatening me you little shit?!” Step-Douche screams.  
“Yes,” Peter says simply. “Why don’t both of you take a little drive in that trash can with wheels of yours?”  
He then fires at the ground near Step-Douche’s feet, turning the dirt of the mal-maintained yard to glass.  
Both of Peter’s guardians shriek in terror and immediately run to the garage. They peel out of the driveway so fast that they leave skid marks on the pavement.  
I flash Peter a thumbs up. “Good going!” I say.  
“I can feast upon their foul flesh when they return, if you’d like!” Venom offers out loud.  
Peter just chuckles.  
We go into the house, unopposed.  
Riley sits in her chair and looks up as we pass her, indignantly. “Um, excuse me, what happened out there?” She demands.  
“Absolutely nothing, a minor disagreement,” Peter says dismissively.  
“They drove off like the Fast and the Furious, it was most definitely not nothing.”  
“It’s a personal matter between us. If they decided to Tokyo Drift their asses out of here that’s their deal. Speaking of which, I’m moving out.”  
“Good, Never want to see you again,” Riley says, snidely.  
“So, Beth Lynn is your prerogative now - sorry not sorry.”  
Riley jerks upright. “WHAT? No, Peter! I have a life!”  
“I have a life too, that’s why I’m leaving!” Peter yells over his shoulder as we go up the stairs to his room.  
I took the time to grab a few spare plastic Sterilite totes from the local dollar store and we throw anything that Peter wants to take into them.  
We work as quickly as possible, wanting to leave as soon as possible, just in case his parents decide to come back and start acting like assholes to us again.  
We fill up the bed of the truck up with everything he wants and then take off, leaving Riley in the driveway screaming obscenities at Peter and throwing rocks in anger at “having her freedom taken away.”  
…

We arrive back home and unload. And by “we” I mean Venom and I.  
Venom, tired of taking the backseat to everything, takes control of my body - and I let him - and he carries multiple totes inside and upstairs at once.  
We further rearrange the upstairs to make room for all of Peter’s stuff. Rick said we could move the rest of the stuff up there down to the basement. He’d hoped we wouldn’t have to since it’s danker and dirtier than the upstairs, but is now more willing considering the circumstances.  
We finish up around noon and flop down on the bed, tired from the work.  
The room is a little cramped still, but organized and cozy.  
“I’m getting hungry,” Peter says. “You have anything here?”  
“Nope,” I say. “Dad only makes enough food to be fresh - we rarely if ever have leftovers.”  
I get up and grab a glass jar wrapped in bacon themed duct tape I made when I was in grade school I use to keep my money in. I pluck out several twenties and hand them to Peter along with my keys.  
“Why don’t you go get us something from McDonalds?” I say.  
“Oooh! Haven’t been there in a long time!” Peter says, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll go, gladly!”  
He kisses me on the lips. It was supposed to be a goodbye peck, but he ends up unable to seperate, rubbing his hand on my chest.  
“Ok, ok,” I say, giving him a playful shove. “Go get lunch, loverboy.”  
Peter grins as he leaves.  
As I stand and listen to Peter tromp down the stars and then hear my truck roar to life and pull away, Venom forms on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “I’m tired of this. I’m bored, and I want to do something fun!”  
“Oh?” I say, grinning. “And what would that be?”  
Venom takes control of my body. He pilots us over to the bed and flops down.  
He emerges from my chest and shoves himself violently into my mouth. He expands to fill my mouth, forcing my jaw open wide and presses in deep.  
I toy with him, trying to squirm. Venom takes control of my muscles again and forces me back down.  
I moan helplessly around the mass in my mouth. Venom seems very into that.  
More of Venom starts to form from the tendrils behind its head, until his entire upper body looms above. He’s still connected to my stomach by thick shafts.  
I moan quietly as his clawed hand strokes down the side of my face.  
Venom moves down my body and starts stripping my shirt off, claws tracing up my skin with just enough pressure to make me shudder with dangerous delight. When the shirt’s been tossed away, Venom sets to work on my trousers, and soon I’m naked.  
Venom’s arms rest on the bed on either side of my head, and he grasps my wrists, each broad hand covering half of my forearm. He presses down into the bed, pinning my arms as his tongue slides up my chest, runs over my shoulder, caresses my neck, and then slithers along my jawline and licks at my lips.  
I press my lips together, tightly. I smirk playfully and Venom chuckles. A tendril coils around my cock, making me gasp from pleasure, and the tongue slides easily into my mouth. “Cute,” Venom says, though how he is able since his tongue is in my mouth is unknown.  
His tongue pushes deeper and I gag a little as it tests the boundaries of my throat, teasingly. Ever so slowly, Venom snakes his tongue down my throat and I choke and gag.  
“I love hearing you choke!” Venom hisses. He runs his hand down the side of my face again. “Bite down if you get uncomfortable!” I flash him a thumbs up - my hands are the only thing I have control of, probably so they can flop helplessly in our BDSM hentai whatever the fuck we’re doing.  
My stomach heaves as Venom’s tongue slides in farther. He goes deeper, and deeper, until Venom is face to face with me.  
I can feel the bulge of my throat and I continue to gag and choke around it.  
Venom is clearly loving me in this playfully helpless state.  
He leaves his tongue there and focuses his attention lower on my body. The tendril around my cock begins pumping in slow motions.  
Another explores toward my ass. I tense at the feeling, but I hardly have time to brace myself before it pushes in without hesitation. Venom slides in and in and any cry I would have made is silenced by the intrusion down my throat. When it’s incredibly deep inside of me, the tendril starts fucking me slowly, sliding back before pushing in with a steady force.  
I am lost in the ecstasy of it all. I wriggle under Venom’s weight without even realizing it as he works me over on multiple fronts.  
Venom’s tongue starts fucking my throat at the same speed as the tendril in my ass, and each slow withdrawal of the tongue gives me just enough time to get a quick breath before it plunges back in.  
Venom makes a thoughtful hum inside my head. “That need to breathe is annoying, isn’t it?”  
I nod, unable to say anything due to the tongue.  
I’m starting to get sick - I’m not able to get nearly as much air as I need. My vision’s going a little fuzzy.  
In front of me I just barely see Venom’s eyes narrow in that way when he smiles, and I vision suddenly clears, the slight tingling through my body dissipates. My lungs still pull for air, permeated by that unpleasant feeling of holding my breath for too long, of suffocating, but I don't black out like I was expecting.  
Venom quickly explains that he’s feeding oxygen into my bloodstream directly to bypass my pesky lungs.  
He just likes my throat a little too much. I’ve never considered my throat that sexy but whatever gets his dander up i suppose.  
Venom laughs in my head and resumes his motions; the tendril in my ass thrusts deeply again, the one around my cock slides up and down my length, and the tongue down my throat pushes wetly in and out.  
Somehow the tongue elongates even more, and I gag reflex kicks on again as it presses deeper into me.  
Venom squeezes my cock and the tendril in my ass thickens.  
I feel something in my cock and my eyes fly open.  
I try to lift my head and look down, but I can barely move with the tongue in my throat. I can’t see past Venom’s torso emerging from my own anyway.  
It’s deep within me, back behind the base of my cock, but it works its way forward, extending through me, pulsing and wriggling as it goes. It takes me a minute to realize it must be another part of Venom, finding another hole to invade but going the opposite way this time. It crawls farther and farther toward my tip, stretching me inside in a way that makes me squeeze my eyes shut and shift my hips from the sensation. Finally it stops, its length filling me from base to tip and still pulsing in a way that makes me squirm.  
The tendril in my ass starts moving differently, bulging and shrinking, stretching me wide before letting the strain relax. It almost feels like Venom is pumping bulging things into me one by one; just a new thing he’s doing with his seemingly limitless ability to shape himself any way he wants. At the same time, though, each bulge brushes against my prostate, and it feels SO good!  
The stimulation sets my body off and blood runs into my cock. The feeling of the thin tendril inside it gets tighter as I grow hard. I would be groaning at the pleasure of the stimulation against my prostate, but my throat is still indisposed.  
I am lost in ecstasy as Venom throat-fucks me, pumping in my ass with his tendril, rubs against my prostate, and the tendril inside the length of cock makes me feel unnaturally stretched, like a taffy pull or something.  
I finally feel an orgasm on the edge. My body shudders, my balls tighten, but it stays right on the edge and I can’t cum.  
Finally, the thrusting of the tongue in my throat stops and it slowly, slowly pulls back. The second it is out of my throat, I take in a desperate gasp and my breathing quickly returns to normal.  
“I want to hear you beg,” Venom says, his face still right in front of mine.  
I just groan in response.  
The tendril in my ass, still stretching me in pulses, increases its speed and I jerk as the added stimulation sends shocks of pleasure through me. The one around my cock squeezes me and a small moan escapes me.  
With a grin, Venom brings me back from distraction, reminding me that I’m right on the edge.  
I try to bear the fucking and the squeezing and the pumping, wait for Venom to remove the tendril from inside my cock, wait for that explosive orgasm I knows is going to follow it. Instead, Venom keeps stimulating me, driving me crazy with sensation as it somehow builds up more, and I can’t release.  
I buck my hips as another bulge slides into me.  
I writhe beneath Venom as he increases the friction on my cock, and another moan escapes me.  
“Beg,” Venom says again. “Beg to cum, and maybe I’ll let you.”  
I feel so tight inside and I can barely stand it anymore. I need to cum. I need to be released. One more press and squeeze and I feel like he’s going to burst with sensation.  
“Please,” I gasp, “please let me cum!”  
Venom gives a pleased laugh. “You’re going to have to do better than that!”  
My eyes are squeezed shut, my hips buckling helplessly.  
Venom still has my arms pinned to the bed on either side of my head, and my hands twitch, my arms pulling weakly.  
Venom rubs hard against the underside of my cock, right where I’m most sensitive, and I’m unable to choke back a moan.  
“P-please,” I continue begging. “I’m at your mercy. Let me release. I’m- I’m going to explode.”  
Venom continues pumping into my ass, brushing against my prostate again and again, but the tendril in my cock doesn’t retreat. My body twitches and jerks as the sensations become even more unbearable.  
“You’re such an ASSHOLE!” I yell.  
Venom laughs. “I know.”  
“I want it,” I say, “I want to orgasm! I want to orgasm while you’re fucking me! I need it more than anything!”  
The tendril in my cock shrinks back into me and I inhale sharply, expecting the blinding pleasure to overtake me, but the tendril stops just shy of clearing the way and letting me cum.  
“Yes? What else?” Venom is entirely too pleased with this.  
“I’ll…” I mind races. What else does want from me? I’m getting more desperate, I would give just about anything to be allowed to release. “I’ll do whatever you want next time, just let me have this. I can’t take any more!”  
“Anything?” He says, mischievously .  
“ANYTHING!” I say, louder and more desperately.  
Venom rumbles another laugh.  
Finally the tendril inside me dissipates, releasing the pressure that was stopping me and I cum hard, seeing stars and crying out. My body arches beneath Venom, my hands scrabbling at nothing.  
Venom’s tongue rams into my mouth, forcing itself down in an absurd kiss. I choke on reflex, but hardly notice as the pleasure rocks through me.  
My hips buck and my body writhes.  
When it finally fades, all of Venom's muscles go lax along with my own, now feeling loose and satisfied. The tension is uncoiled, and my panting breaths pause for one last moan as an aftershock of pleasure runs through me.  
As I lay on the bed, covered in my own jizz, Venom and I both hear my loud ass truck pulling into the driveway.  
Venom quickly goes to work, lapping up all my jizz with his tongue, leaving me spotless, before sinking into my skin and allowing me to get dressed.  
I finish dressing by pulling a new shirt - a turquoise v neck with a breast pocket - before Peter opens the door and enters.  
“Food’s here!” He says, holding up several paper bags. “Did I miss anything?”  
Venom’s head has sprouted from my shoulder and we both look at each other and grin.  
“Nope, not a thing!”

WILLOW AN: Ok, Mark… that… that was kind of hot, I’m not gonna lie…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
: P

…

It’s nice to wake up in the morning with Peter, nude, at my side. It’s like I’m starting my day off at its highest point.  
I kiss him and we nuzzle a little before getting up and getting ready. 

I get dressed in an acid wash ripped up jean jacket, black ripped up jeans, a black Under Armour tank top, white sneakers and a silver chain hooked around my belt loops.  
Peter gets dressed in a grey t-shirt with an ironic pain splatter style cross on it. Blue jeans with the knees ripped out, yellow-brown workboots, a black hoodie with flowery patterns on it, and a silver watch.  
Then we get into the truck and drive to school.  
On the way we listened excitedly to Good Charlotte and Marilyn Manson. We’ve been on an Early 2000’s Goth Rock kick lately.  
The sound of Peter singing along to the screaming band members playing from my bluetooth speakers seems to drive all the chilliness of the early morning away.  
The day seems to be going perfectly - right until I pull into the student parking lot. I go to park in my usual spot when, suddenly, a shittly looking greyish blue minivan manifactured in the 90s or some shit pulls in front of me. I try to swerve but can’t. The other car hits the front of my car from an angle.  
The entire car lurches and both of us are thrown forward, though the seat belt catches us. Venom, panicking, throws tendrils out to brace me even further, pushing off of the dashboard.  
Peter looks over after we fall backwards after we fully stop. “Hey, thanks for catching me too, Venom, really appreciate that!” He mutters.  
Venom just grumbles from my mouth as he retracts back into my body.  
Hopefully nobody saw him.  
We get out of the truck to take a look at the damage.  
The other driver gets out as well.  
“Misty?” I say, shocked.  
She gets out and looks mortified. “Oh my god, Eddie, I’m so sorry!” She sounds on the verge of tears. “I didn’t mean it, honestly!”  
“It’s ok, it doesn’t look like any of us were hurt! Just back up a little so we can see the damage.”  
She does so and I squat down and take a look. My truck, being an old thing made “back in the day” is pretty much fine. There’s a little dent in the fender and some scratched paint, but little else. Misty’s van fared worse, the bumper crumpling a little and having much of the pain scraped off. I explain this to Misty as she gets out of her car a second time and approaches.  
“I don’t care about my car, it's a shitty junker. I’m just concerned about yours!” She says.  
“Ah, yes, I say in a jokey tone, cause my truck is such a beauty.” I pick at some rust near the wheel well and it flakes off. I stand up. “Don’t worry about it.”  
Misty nods.  
“Alright let’s just go -”  
“I certainly hope you’re going to report that,” a voice interrupts.  
We all look to see Mr. Hawkeye standing there looking cross. He’s wearing black slacks, black dress shoes and carries a blown worn briefcase with the rest of his clothing being obscured by a long tan overcoat.  
“No, really,” I say, “it’s fine -”  
“You know the rules,” he interjects again. “It’s a precaution in case any family members throw a fit. Humor me.”  
Misty and I groan.  
“Fine!” I kiss Peter. “You just go to class, I’ve got this!” I mutter.  
Misty and I both go to the office and wait, annoyed, for the receptionist to take our statement and write it down in a damages form or whatever.  
There’s someone in line ahead of us, none other than Ice Man.  
“gret,” I mutter, looking at him.  
“What’s up with him?” She asks, seeing the distance on my face.  
“Just some bad blood, it’s none of your concern.”  
“Oh, ok. If he’s shady or whatever I can do something more about that.”  
I just look at her, I’m not sure what she means by that. I decide to just brush it off.  
We chat a little and she’s jovial, similar to yesterday in health. I notice that she’s laughing more than usual and that her eyes never seem to leave me. It’s a little weird and I shift uncomfortably.  
“So, I say, you’re not mad about the fender bender?”  
“Naw,” she says. “Like I say, it’s a junker. But if you’re feeling guilty, you can buy me dinner and we can call it even.” She gives me Bambi eyes and I find I can’t say no to her.  
Venom muses inside my head that she's giving him bad vibes. I don’t entirely disagree, but I can’t help but want to be nice. So, I agree.  
Misty squees and literally hugs me which I was not expecting and is a little awkward.  
The receptionist is talking with one of the teachers about something and wasting my precious time. I need to see the others before school and see if anything has come up I need to know about. I’m on school grounds so I can’t use my phone - the principle is a bicth for being such a stickler about that! Finally the teacher decides to stop being a time wasting asshole and leaves.  
Ice Man starts talking to the receptionist next and I notice that something is super off about him.  
He looks super disheveled. He’s is wearing an avacado colored jacket with brown fringe that is grubby and crumpled even though it was clean yesterday, black jeans that are equally as dirty and backwards, the zipper partially down. I bite my lip as I realize he isn’t wearing underwear. His low cut black and silver shoes are caked in mud and show he’s only wearing one sock. His face fuzz is out of control making him look like a hobo. His eyes are super dark and his face is very pale like he hasn’t slept in weeks.  
He is shaky and jittery and twitchy and his head constantly lulls like he’s about to pass out or something. He grips the counter tightly.  
The receptionist has her fake-ass polie smile as she turns but it fades when she sees his face. “[Robert Louis "Bobby" Drake] Bobby Drake?” The receptionist says. “Are you alright?”  
“It’s Ice Man,” he mutters in reply. “And no, I’m not.” He shakes his head, confused. “What day is it today?”  
“Wednesday, the 28th,” she says, confused.  
Ice Man jerks up. “WHAT?” He says, shocked. “No, that’s not possible, I was gone a week!” He seems extremely agitated.  
“You were here yesterday,” the receptionist says. She bites her lip. “You’re not… you know… on drugs, are you? Or indulging in alcohol?”  
“NO!” He yells. Tears start streaming down his face. “I was out… at the bowling alley I think… and I had a drink from a friend… then…” he starts full on bawling. “I don’t… I can’t…”  
“Bobby, Bobby, you’re alright,” the receptionist says. She rounds the counter and puts her arms on his shoulders.  
“I was wandering around and I got here somehow… a van I think…” Ice Man starts really sobbing and whatever other words he says are incoherent gibberish.  
The Office door opens and the principal walks in. “Good morning Jan -”  
“Call an ambulance!” The receptionist says.  
She quickly explains to the principle what happened and she does so, frantically.  
Misty and I just stand here looking and feeling awkward. How are we supposed to react to a guy who - while he didn’t explicitly say it - was clearly sexually assaulted.  
A siren sounds shortly after and several men carefully take Ice Man away, presumably for a rape kit or whatever.  
Once he’s out the principal and the receptionist look out after him with worried expressions. They then turn to us.  
“So, yeah, now that he’s gone, can we fill out paperwork or whatever for our fender bender please?” I say, somewhat impatiently.  
The receptionist nods. “Yes, yes, sorry for the wait,” she mumbles as she fetches them.  
Misty and I quickly fill them out and hand them back before we run to class.  
Thanks to all the shenanigans that have taken place we’re nearly late for first period.  
…

As the day goes on, “the tale of Ice Man” has spread like wildfire. To my shock, most people are not that concerned, but rather, dunking on him. Them hearing about him potentially having a roofie put in his drink makes everyone speculate who would have done it.  
Sure enough it soon devolves into a bunch of homophobia as people talk about “who’s the secret fag” who wanted to buttfuck him. it’s rather irritating.  
Nobody seems to be taking this seriously except for the Redpilled MGTOW beta cuck Incels who start going on screeds about men being raped and shit but nobody cares.  
I can’t say I feel that bad for Ice Man. he tried nuking us with liquid nitrogen after all. He’s a complete fuck face who probabally deserved whatever he got. 

LUCAS AN: HOLY SHIT, MARK! That’s fucking harsh! *grimaces*

While walking through the halls on my way to The Daily Bugle room, I see a confrontation take place.  
It’s Mary Jane, a couple of her friends, and Ava.  
Mary Jane is dressed like a complete skank whom I don’t even want to fucking describe because I hate her so much!  
Ava’s dressed like she normally is I guess.  
“Seriously girl, what is your deal?” Mary Jane says. “You’ve been acting like a fucking schitzo all week, what the hell is your deal?”  
Ava lets out an angry shrek. “What’s my deal? I was attacked at YOUR fucking party! I had my legs shattered!”  
“Yeah, well, they’re not shattered now, so what's the problem?” Mary Jane says, flipping her hair like the cunt licking whore she is.  
“Let me get this straight, you get to go on television, sob your fucking eyes out and have a breakdown, and yet I am just upset and touchy and frusterated and I’M JUST BEING OVEREMOTIONAL?”  
“Yes,” Mary Jane says, flatly.  
Ava loses her shit. She starts calling Mary Jane all sorts of nasty names and getting in her face.  
Mary Jane’s lackies start trying to push Ava away but she shoulders both of them hard, sending them stumbling into other people.  
Mary Jane has a Starbucks coffee in her hand - against school rules by the way - and, in anger, throws it in Ava’s face. The lid pops off and Ava is doused in hot coffee. It doesn’t look hot enough to burn, but the slight makes her lose it.  
She leaps on Mary Jane and starts to literally beat the shit out of her. Mary Jane flails and yells as her head is slammed into the lockers behind her.  
“GET HER OFF! SHE’S RUINING MY PERM AND GETTING COFFEE ON MY CLOTHES - THEY’RE GOING TO STAIN!!!” Mary Jane shrieks.  
She starts clawing at Ava’s face, threatening to take out an eye.  
I step in and cold cock Mary Jane in the face. Her head bashes into the locker and she passes out, hitting the floor hard.  
The halls explode into applause.  
I help Ava - who was knocked to the floor - up and offer her my jacket since her ghost jacket is drenched in Starbucks pumpkin spice latè.  
She thanks me. She takes off her sweatshirt but her t-shirt under it (a pretty olive green short sleeved shirt with a silver hummingbird pattern on the front) rides up, briefly exposing her black bra.  
Everyone laughs and Venom, in anger, takes over and bellows for everyone to shut up. Not expecting such a booming voice to come from me, they do.  
Some of the girls start yelling and cheering for me standing up for women everywhere and a second round of applause fills the halls.  
Ava looks good in my leather jacket.  
“When do you need this back?” She asks.  
“Just bring it back tomorrow, I’m good,” I say.  
“It's cold out there, though,” she says.  
“Relax, I can take the cold,” I say, waving her concerns off.  
Mr. Rogers and Mr. Hawkeye come in and see the distress everyone is in and they yell for everyone to disband and they do. They look down at Mary Jane on the floor.  
“Um, is she ok?” Mr. Rogers asks.  
I shrug. “Probably.”  
I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to the Daily Bugle room with me.  
Mr. Jamosan looks at me oddly as I walk in with Mary Jane. “Carrying her over the threshold, Mr. Brock?”  
“She had her head bonked,” I say. I sit her down in her chair at her desk.  
Misty comes over looking mortified. “Oh my god, what happened?” She says.  
I quickly explain. “Do you have any cold water?” I ask.  
Misty gets her water bottle. It’s one of those fancy ones with synthetic gels on the inside that you can stick in the freezer and it’ll keep the liquid in it cold all day. I’m a little jealous, those things are, like, super expensive and shit. I uncap it and dump it over Mary Jane’s face and she gasps and sits up.  
“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL FUCK?” She shrieks. She looks at me and glares. EDDIE? WHAT. THE. FUCK. DID. YOU. DO. AND. WHY????”  
Misty goes from happy that her friend has been revived to angry. “Hey, don’t talk to Eddie like that!” She snaps.  
“I can talk to Eddie however I want!” Mary Jane yells in Misty’s face. “And why are you protecting him, I thought you were my friend!”  
“I am,” Misty says. “But I'm also Eddie's friend!”  
“Um, not really -” I start but misty cuts me off.  
“Sure we are!”  
I decide not to argue with her.  
Mr. Jamosan taps his foot (he’s wearing fancy old timey dress shoes with hard bottoms that are pretty loud on the tile floor) and points to the door. “Office, Miss Watson.”  
“For what?” She demands.  
“For excessive sweating. Lunch detention for a week, I’d say.”  
She glares at him icily.  
“OUT!” He snaps.  
She gets up and storms off, her preppy sneakers squeaking with water as she does so, slamming the door so hard the little window in it cracks.  
Mr. Jamosan yells into the hall after her saying, “you’re going to be paying for that, Miss Watson!”  
…

At lunch we all talk excitedly about all the trouble Mary Jane’s gotten into.  
Ava came in looking upset as she’s effectively been cut off by her friends. After she got her food she walked over to the tables and looked around, sadly.  
We’d waved her over and she gladly sat with us.  
Che chose to sit next to Scott and it’s lost on none of us that she and he seem to be getting pretty chummy, slowly but surely.  
Gwen grins at me and I grin back.  
Suddenly, I feel a hand on my leg and I look over to see Peter looking at me. “I’m horny,” he mouths and I smile and nod.  
We excuse ourselves from the others and go through the halls looking for a place to do it.  
We find an empty classroom that’s been abandoned for a long time, according to Peter. It’s just used for storage now, I guess.  
We go in and close the door. There’s no way to lock it, sadly. But it’s dark and abandoned and it’s unlikely anyone would come in here.

I grabbed Peter in a very tight embrace and begin to plant wet kisses on his pink sexy lips.  
Soon I unzip his pants and lower them to his ankles as well as his briefs.  
I shove Peter's back up against the classroom door, drop to my knees and take hold of the base of his thick huge 8-inch dick and begin to circle that large cock head with my wet tongue, spewing saliva all over his incredible sexy cock, as he bucks his hips forward loving my tongue and lips on his virgin cock.  
The feel of his hard smooth warm cock on my tongue, his sexy hands pressed hard on my head, his provocative bucking hips and ass, his moans and his begging me to suck him, causes me to crave him.  
He begged, "Oh fuck yeak Eddie, lord have mercy, I've never felt such gratifying pleasure. Oh that feels so great. Please take all my fucking cock deep in that wet hot throat. Suck my cock baby. Let me come in your mouth baby."  
All that sexy talk and smell and taste of his cock and body smells sends me into some kind of wild raw primitive animal desire for him and the taste of his precum was so good.  
I place my hands on his warm bubble ass and push it forward, driving his big cock to the back of my throat and I swallow the entire dick.  
I begin to suck that boner with my lips clamped down hard on that throbbing cock shaft.  
Delirious with lust, shivers start running up and down my spine with my own cock gone stiff as a board.  
I begin wildly sucking that dong as I would pull almost all the way off and then back down on the world's best cock.  
Peter raises his voice as he ssys, "Oh fuck yeah, you must be the world's best cocksucker! Oh that feels so good! Don't stop! Suck my cock, yeah that is it!"  
Peter bucks and begs for more as he moans.  
Soon I feel his cock head expand in my mouth followed by a gush of warm thick semen coating my mouth and tongue with some of the best tasting cum I'd ever had.  
The load was so big that some of it ran out of my mouth, down my chin and to my chest. Venom laps that all us.  
When he’s spent, I pull off his cock, stand up, dump part of that thick semen in his mouth and we kiss, giving Peter his first taste of man semen.  
At that point Peter pleads with me to fuck him.  
Overcome with raging carnal lust, I lower my pants and briefs, turn Peter's face up against the door, spread his sexy legs far apart, order him to thrust his sexy puckering ass back toward my throbbing cock, lubed my cock with gobs of Venom’s spit, and opened that tight virgin ass by driving my experienced cock past his outer ass ring until my entire cock was deep in that awesome ass.  
I take hold of his shoulders as I bang his ass with my stiff cock. I fuck him violently as the classroom door is rattling, sending signals to the guys in the hall that someone’s getting the hell fucked out of their ass.  
Peter loses all inhibitions as he cries out, "oh fuck yea, fuck my ass, oh my god that cock feels so great in my pussy, don't stop, fuck my virgin ass, shit you're making my cock hard again, drive that beast in me, come inside me, breed me baby!"  
The dirty talk and the feel of his ass muscles squeezing my stiff cock releases my huge load of semen from my cock as I counted five huge blasts followed by several small releases of cum deep in that hot boi-pussy ass.  
When spent, I pull my still semi-hard cock out of that pussy and have him suck my cock clean and then we kiss.  
Suddenly, the door opens.  
Mr. Hawkeye walks in and turns on the light. He gasps when he sees us, half naked, clearly having just had sex. His mouth is agape.  
I throw my hands up. “Oh my god, please, don’t report us, I’m begging you!”  
“Yeah,” Peter says, “We love each other and we just got so horny!”  
Mr. Hawkeye says nothing. He just raises his hands, signaling he doesn’t want to go into it or say anything, and walks out, flipping the light off as he does so.  
So of course, from that point on we are both terrified.  
We have to seperate for our respective classes.  
The entire time during my class - health - I’m shitting bricks. We’re continuing our unit on sex because irony I guess. The entire time I keep expecting to hear my name over the announcements calling me and Peter to the office, but it never happens, somehow. Mr. Hawkeye is acting totally normal, as though nothing were wrong in the slightest which is a tad uncanny for me.  
I’m so distraught that I barely notice Misty or her stupid-ass goth punk outfit that makes her look like a complete slutty whore. She keeps staring at me when she thinks I’m not looking, which I guess is just a thing she does now. She seems to be daydreaming at all times, stroking the top of her desk sensually with her forefinger. It’s a little creepy, not gonna lie.  
Last class of the day, last class of the day, last class of the day, I can make it!  
Finally, after what feels like years, the bell rings. Everyone scrambles for the door, but Mr. Hawkeye approaches.  
When he reaches me, he bends his knees a bit and puts his hand on my shoulder, and whispers into my ear. “Eddie, remember you have detention after class, from yesterday.”  
I get mad at myself, and at him for remembering. I was hoping he would be a cool teacher and just forget about the ordeal.  
I quickly remind myself to text Peter about how I'll be stuck in class detention for a bit. It shouldn't last any longer than 30 minutes, hopefully.  
I”m stuck in class for another 30 OR SO MINUTES due to being A MINUTE late to class. What a rigged system.  
“How did you feel about today's class?” Mr. Hawkeye asks me, looking down at me.  
I'm feeling this sensation of being intimidated but also fueled with lust. Even after everything that’s happened, being caught, I still can’t get over how fucking sexy he is!  
“It was okay.” I state back, limply.  
“Learn anything new about putting a condom on a dildo?”  
I’m taken aback for a second.  
“I didn't put the condom on, Scott Did that, remember?” I answer while avoiding contact with him.  
“Oh right, well I guess you didn't get the chance to learn then.” He says, moving towards the door of the class and locking the door.  
“Would you like to try?” He says this while looking away from me. This is the first time I've noticed him being a bit uncertain.  
I'm again taken aback by the way he is stating these questions. I look at him, puzzled.  
I gave it a few seconds thought, I'd rather do anything than just sit still for 30 minutes, plus it was fun jerking the dildo off.  
“Sure,” I reply, while giving a quick nod.  
He then pulls out a magnum condom from his wallet in his pocket.  
“Go ahead,” he says.  
I look around for the dildo, then look up at his face.  
“Where's the dildo?” I ask, while still looking up at him.  
He has a reassuring look, and gives a little head nod downwards hinting at something lower.  
I slowly look down his chest, towards the bulge that I've been sneaking peeks at all week.  
I look up at his face again, and still his emotions remain the same. With the look of reassurance.  
“I think I know where this is going and It’s HELLA ILLEGAL,” I say, a little worried.  
“Yeah, and so is having sex with another student in a broom closet. Consider this my reasoning for not reporting you.”  
I stare up at him, appalled, but he just smiles back.  
That smile does get me super horny though…  
He starts to unbutton his jeans, and unzips his pants. He pulls his jeans down until I'm face to face with a large lump in his white briefs.  
“Your turn, remember this is a group effort,” He chuckles to himself.  
10 inches of pure white meat is within inches from my face. I can see his cockhead bubbling juice as his dick throbs. There is a full brown bush, and his balls are also lightly covered in hair.  
“Remember what Scott said, the first step is to lubricate it.”  
I look up at him as he is saying this, I'm still experiencing the initial shock.  
“If you need to get in the mood a little more, I can help.” Mr. Hawkeye undoes his pink checkered tie and unbuttons his crisp white shirt, exposing his rock hard muscles that ripple with every movement. He’s so lean and cut and sexy I can’t handle it!  
My cock strains against my jeans, very painfully.  
“Go ahead and take your pants off, if that’ll help,” Mr. Hawkeye says.  
I do so and he sucks in a breath of air through pursed lips at the sight of my tight ass.  
I look up at Mr. Hawkeye one last time but he has his eyes closed. Starting to relax, I grab onto his dick. He moans lightly and cups my head with his hands.  
I move my head back a bit and look directly at the snakes eye as precum leaks out. I give it a long lick and watch his cock throb again. His precum is salty, however the thought of licking a dickhead of such a god sends me into overdrive, and I start lapping all around his dick.  
The smoothness of his skin, the wetness of his dick head on my cheek when I lick on the side of his cock when I reach the root, make my own dick drip with precum.  
Suddenly he holds my head still away from his dick. “Open,” he orders.  
I follow orders and open my mouth, I don't believe I will get much in my mouth with the thickness of his dick, but I will hella try.  
He aims his dick towards my open mouth without taking hold of his dick. I'm feeling his dick rubbing around all my face trying to seek entrance.  
He finally manages to get the dick close to my mouth, and starts to slowly push forward. My mouth is being opened more than normal, and my lips start to stretch to the point where they are getting uncomfortable.  
I get the full head in my mouth, and feel his precum coating my tongue.  
“Now that you have lubricated the head, you need to jerk it off to spread the lube,” Mr. hawkeye whispers.  
Now that's something I can do, if he had asked me to take the entire thing in my throat I would have thought he would have gone insane.  
I start to jerk him off slowly and he dribbles some of his own spit to help lubricate his pole. This goes on for a few minutes, but he must have been disappointed by my speed since he slaps my hand out of my way and replaces it with his.  
He jerks off fast, I feel his precum trickle out of his dick faster, the speed of him jerking off makes it hard to keep balance on his dickhead.  
His precum oozes more frequently, I'm going crazy over the taste.  
Suddenly he holds my head still with both hands.  
“Look at me,” he orders once again.  
I look up at him through slightly wet eyes, his brown eyes are melting me. As much as I feel uncomfortable physically (my jaw is beginning to hurt). I begin to feel comforted by his gaze.  
That's when I felt the first twitch.  
“Swallow,” he orders, breathlessly.  
I obey.  
Every time he shoots a large load, he orders me to swallow.  
After the 7th shot, he stops ordering me to swallow, and his dick is oozing cum instead of shooting.  
He pulls my head away from his dick head and holds me up against the root of his dick.  
I breathe in the smell of his pubes. Sweat, cologne, man, lust.  
This is the smell that can comfort me, a smell that I could get used to.  
“Stand up,” Mr. Hawkeye orders.  
I do so.  
He grips my ass tightly. “You’re so sexy, Mr. Brock, you know that?”  
“I’ve been told, but never by a teacher!” I say.  
“I’ve wanted to strip you naked and eat you alive since you walked through those front doors,” He whispers.  
“Does he mean that figuratively, or literally?” Venom asks, in my head. “Because I don’t want you to be eaten alive by anyone except me!”  
I don’t reply, obviously.  
Mr. Hawkeye laps at my cock head with his tongue, looking up at me. “Raise up your shirt,” He orders. “I want to see your body.”  
I do so and he runs a hand over my lightly furred chest. He moans as he does so.  
He starts sucking my cock and is surprisingly skilled. I have a feeling I’m not the first student he’s done this with.  
I can’t help but gasp and moan as he works my cock and that seems to turn him on more.  
He fondles my balls and gropes my ass and, as such, brings me to climax fairly quickly.  
Mr. Hawkeye pulls back off of my cock and jerks it for the last few seconds before I orgasm. I give him a full facial, thoroughly drizzling his chiseled face in jizz.  
I try not to yell in ecstacy the whole time.  
Mr. Hawkeye laps the cum from his lips and grins. He can’t open his eyes because he’s that covered.  
“Ok, stud, lick it up.”  
I get down on my knees and start sensually licking his face and he moans like a dog the whole time. One I’m done he presses his lips to mine and frenches me, rubbing my chest while I rub his.  
There’s a knock on the door and we both jump. We quickly pull out pants back on and button and lower our shirts.  
He opens the door to see Peter on the other side.  
“Peter!” he says, briskly. “What can I do for you!”  
“I missed the bus because Eddie’s driving us home, I kind of need to go.”  
“Of course, of course, I think detention is up, don’t you, Eddie!”  
“Sure is,” I say.  
I grab my things and leave, saying goodbye to Mr. Hawkeye on my way out. I grab Peter's arm and drag him down the hall saying, “I’ve got something to tell you!”  
On the way home, I tell Peter all about my experience with Mr. Hawkeye and he’s wide eyed and elated at the story.  
“Holy fucking shit, dude, that’s so fucking hot!”  
“I’m glad you’re not jealous,” I say. “I figured you’d think I was cheating or something.”  
“Jealous? I wish I was there. Mr. Hawkeye is a fucking masculicious beef horse and I’d pay good money to see him blowing you!”  
“Maybe I can convince him later, outside of school, when it's more private,” I say, flexing my eyebrows. 

LUCAS AN: Mark, I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just… tired. So tired of this weird bullshit…


	18. Ramping it Up With Misty Que [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie goes on a date with Misty and other stuff happens, who honestly cares? I certainly don't. Do you care? Do you like this? I have to edit and post this. I'm losing my mind! Mom is like "sweetie, it's a bonding project between you, your sister and your stepbrother. A group project is a healthy exercise!" SHE'S NOT READING THIS! She doesn't know that it has in it, what I'm dealing with! I'm LOSING IT! I think this is making my relationship with Willow worse and making me hate Mark more! I JUST WANT COVID TO FUCKING KILL ME AND GET IT OVER WITH! Anyway, by other stuff I mean Eddie and Misty just have petty tiffs that result in stalking. yeah, Misty's a stalker now, spoilers. Enjoy - if you can. If you still feel joy. I wish I could. *Sobs alone in bedroom.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two sex scenes, one a very explicit hentai scene with Venom, the other an explicit but way more tame / vanilla scene.

LUCAS AN: Willow, I’m getting tired of all this. You give me this weird-ass porn filled bullshit and honestly expect me to edit it and be fine with it?

WILLOW AN: The porn comes from Mark, why are you having it out with me?

LUCAS AN: “This is your story too,” isn’t it? You allow it in there. You said it was “hot” last chapter.

WILLOW AN: It was Simbrock, I have a soft spot for that pairing. Didn’t think Mark could write something halfway attractive.

LUCAS AN: You… actually… liked… the weird hentai shit?

WILLOW AN: I guess.

LUCAS AN: YOU “GUESS?” YOU JUST SAID YOU LIKED IT!

WILLOW AN: If you already knew. Then why did you ask?

LUCAS AN: It was rhetorical. You know what, never mind. Just pay me more, alright? I lost my job, I’m fucking depressed, my girlfriend wants to be able to afford ACTUAL decent food for cooking in this Covid-19 wracked world. You know she was laid off too. We’re not doing well.

WILLOW AN: I’M JUST A HIGHSCHOOLER! I don’t have that much to throw around!

LUCAS AN: Don’t give me that “oH i HaVe No MoNeY” Bullshit! You get a hell of an allowance! You get more from Mark’s Dad for doing nothing than I get actually working a full time job!

WILLOW AN: You’re just jealous because he likes me and not you, right?

LUCAS AN: Low blow. And you’re stalling. PAY ME MORE.

WILLOW AN: No.

LUCAS AN: Then Edit your own damn fic.

WILLOW AN: I’m not good at editing though!

LUCAS AN: Not my problem! 

WILLOW AN: How much do you want?

LUCAS AN: 15 dollars.

WILLOW AN: For all of it? That’s lower than I was paying you!

LUCAS AN: Per hour.

WILLOW AN: BITCH WHAT??? Minimum wage??? This isn’t an actual job!

LUCAS AN: LIKE HELL IT’S NOT. You and Mark give me a LOT of material to work with and are SHIT at being consistent. You give me half finished Google documents, stuff written in notebooks, notepad screenshots from your phones, and shit written on fucking napkins (none of it labeled, mind you) and expect me to cobble that into a cohesive narraive? And fix the spelling? And rewrite poorly constructed sentences? And cut out redundant material? THAT TAKES A HELL OF A LOT OF WORK! You have an unlimited ammount of funds, Mark’s Dad is a fucking CEO, you’re buying GUCCI but can’t pay me decently? GET BENT if you expect me to put up with that!

WILLOW AN: I’m sorry I’m such a burden! I’m doing this for fun! I’m trying to cultivate a relationship with Mark and think I’ve made major headway! We’re actually to a point where we don’t try killing each other every time we look at one another! Fanfiction, even smutty fanfiction, IS ART. And while it may be confusing to you, it comes from the heart! It means a lot to me! I don’t expect you to understand that, but I hope you try!

LUCAS AN: Fuck you, pay me.

WILLOW AN: FINE! GOD! Cut all of this, please. The audience doesn’t need to read this!

LUCAS AN: I’ll try to remember.

Later on I start to talk to Misty via text.  
I tell her that I am open and willing to take her to whatever restaurant she wants - within reason. She chooses a fairly decent restaurant in the city and I comply with her wishes.  
I swing by her house and pick her up.  
She smiles as she gets into the passenger's side door that I open for her using a Venom tendril since I don't feel like leaning over. She then, unexpectedly, kisses me on the cheek.  
“Um, hi?” I say.  
She just giggles.  
We drive into the city and listen to the radio. We both sing along to pass the time.  
Misty's a pretty good singer. When I comment on that she says she's in choir, which I didn't know. She mentions that there's a concert coming up and wants to know if I'll go. I say I'll think about it, aka, definitely not.  
We get to the restaurant and are seated.  
It's mostly a bunch of business type people around and yet here we are in street clothes.  
I’m in a button down blue shirt, tan slacks, black high top sneakers, a black beanie, and a ton of gold and silver jewelry.  
Misty is dressed in a goth punk leather jacket with a flaming skull and a motorcycle embroidered on the back, a short layered flowy skirt, ripped tights, and knee high goth boots with a ton of straps and zippers on them. She has heavy dark makeup around her eyes and lips, though her cheeks are heavily blushed.  
We get a few odd looks but Misty and I don’t acre though. We like being rebels who stick it to the man and go against the rules. It brings me pleasure to see the molicles pop, figuratively speaking.  
We talk about nothing in particular.  
Truth be told, I really don’t want to be here and just want to go home and go to bed.  
Venom shifts around uncomfortably in my body and constantly rambles about how bored he is. I can’t get him to shut up however since I’m in public and talking to Misty's face. If I say “shut up” she’d obviously and rightfully get offended and as much as I’m not a fan of her I don’t want that.  
“So,” I ask.  
“Yeah?” She says.  
“Why exactly did you say earlier that we’re friends?”  
She seems a little taken aback. “Aren’t we?”  
“I barely know you,” I say a little too bluntly. “When I first got here you wanted to kick my ass!”  
“Oh, yeah, I did do that, didn’t I?” She says. She giggles. “Silly me!”  
I just stare at her with a fake-ass smile on my face that probably looks more like a grimace.  
This is the same girl who, pre-memory wipe, turned herself into that weird-ass queer-ass version of Peter to get into my pants. She’s starting to creep me out again.  
“I hope you don’t take offence to this, but we’re not really friends,” I say, shrugging. It occurs to me that, when her face falls a little, that I was too blunt. “I mean, we basically just met, I’ve only been here a month” 

LUCAS AN: Has it only been a month? Neither you nor Willow have given any sense of time in this fucking fic!

“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” Misty says, perking back up again. “But, I mean, that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer! I’d really like to!” She reaches across the table and touches my hand.  
Venom takes over and yanks my hand away abruptly. “Don’t touch Eddie!” He says out loud, making my stomach drop.  
Misty blinks and stares at me.  
I grin, nervously. “Sorry, caveman speak just kind of happens sometimes!” I say. “You know, third person, slips happen!”  
Venom muters inside my head.  
I want to rest my hand back down - it’s still raised - but Venom doesn’t want to in case Misty tries toughing it again. I reach out with my other hand and force it back down to the table, stiffly.  
Misty stares for a second but then starts laughing. “You’re so funny!” She says in a really unconvincingly girly voice.  
“Yeah, I’m a real comedian arena’t I?” I say, making the most forced laugh I’ve ever made in my life.  
The food arrives and I wolf it down as quickly as possible, just to end it.  
Venom isn’t a fan of the human food but is willing to tolerate it for now.  
Misty eats slower and it drives me absolutely fucking crazy. But, she finally finishes and an elated feeling comes over. She finishes her last bite of horribly overpriced pasta and sighs. “Well, I’m ready for desert!”  
I’ve never heards Venom scream in my head so loud.  
I order some tiramisu and she orders a banana split the size of Noah’s Ark.  
Another twenty minutes of eating and meaningless chit chat and we’re finally done.  
“So, you want to go see a movie or something?” Misty asks when we’re done. “I’d really rather not go home just yet!” She runs her fingers around the lip of her crystal water glass.  
“Actually I have a stack of homework the size of the Bible back home I need to get done with!” I say, quickly. I mean, I’m technically not lying either.  
Misty pouts and I apologize. “Are you sure you can't blow it off? Just for tonight? Just for me?” she asks.  
“No, sorry, I say,” firme this time.  
“Ok, fine then, I guess I’ll go home then!” Misty suddenly explodes making me jump.  
“Hey, woah, I’m sorry!” I say, raising my hands.  
“You should be!” She snaps. “I’ll be in the truck!”  
She storms out and I just sit there with the other customers just staring at me. I blush redder than the comunist flag.  
I pay the bill and leave the waiter a hefty tip (he’s Magic Mike levels of sexy man meat) and go outside.  
Misty stands there shivering in the cold. “I forgot it’s not unlocked,” she mutters.  
I roll my eyes and let her in and drive us back home.  
On the way home, out of nowhere, Misty apologizes to me and starts acting all sweet again.  
“Just don’t do anything like that again, please?” she says.  
“Sure,” I say, dismissively.  
I cannot drop this bitch off soon enough.  
“I had a wonderful night!” She says when I pull up to her house.  
“I’m sure you did!” I say.  
“Did you?” Before I can answer she cuts in with, “of course you did, you were with me!”  
She giggles and I force a giggle too.  
She gets out after way too long and I take off at like 60 miles an hour, wanting to put as much space between her and I as possible.  
…

I walk upstairs to my room and notice the bathroom door is closed. I hear the water running. Is he in the shower?  
I guess I'll just wait for him.  
I putter around the room.  
His math homework is sitting out on his table. He always does well. Wait - we had homework in geometry? I guess I missed it.  
I ponder; he’d let me copy it if I asked him anyway…  
I grab a Pencil from the dog shaped cup.  
I pull one of his notebooks closer and flip to find a clean sheet.  
I am immediately distracted from what I was originally doing.  
i am shocked. Across the pages of his notebook are some of the most horrifying drawings and short stories I've ever read.  
Lots of very detailed drawings of people. People with their heads chopped off. Holding their own heads digging their brains out with screwdrivers. People with monsters crawling from their mouths and empty eye sockets. People with their chests exploding outwards. People impaled on stakes. People being tortured. People with animal heads. People sobbing. Lots of people sobbing.  
I can only stare.  
I look at the short stories and the poems. Most of them are about death and confusion. Some of the stories are of fantastical places and people and superpowers and romance. Some are beautiful escapism. Some are tales of lovecraftian monsters putting people through more torture than all the Hellraiser movies combined.  
He writes everything with the four color click pen he has.  
The good writings are in blue, the bad ones in red, and the drawings are all in black pen.  
With no eraser all of the mistakes are left in place, making the insane ones look even more upsetting than they already do. There is a lot of red to offset it for the blood. There’s a lot of it.  
My stomach clenches.  
“What the fuck, Peter?” I ask out loud.  
He’s never mentioned any of this before.  
I hear footsteps and close the book, throwing it down as Peter walks in.  
He jumps. “Gha! Eddie, what the hell?”  
“Hey, I live here too!” I say.  
I glance back at the book.  
Peter looks so normal. I have such a hard time believing he could write something like that.  
“So, how did the date go?” Peter asks.  
“It was… not the best…” I say, trying to be polite.  
“It was painful and sucked ass,” Venom says out loud.  
“Ah, I figured that would be the case,” Peter says.  
I can't stop looking at Peter. He’s in nothing but a towel. God damn, he's got abs. Serious abs.  
I feel my face grow red.  
Peter sees my red face and wandering eyes and grins.  
My breath freezes in my throat when he takes off the towel and tosses it into the hamper.  
My fave somehow gets redder. If I'm not careful I’ll end up with a nosebleed. Good god, I need to have modesty.  
Don't look at his dick… too late. Good god, even flaccid, it's big. I'm not sure if I can compare.  
Peter seems to enjoy my shock. He crosses his arms, still grinning. “Hey, man, toss me some clothes from the closet.”  
“Like what?” I ask breathlessly.  
“I don't know. Whatever you think I'd look good in.”  
I fumble with the clothes in the closet. I pull some things out and give them to him.  
“I wouldn't expect something so shameless from you,” I say.  
Peter shrugs. “I guess you're rubbing off on me.”  
“Good god, bad choice of words,” I say as Peter slips his boxers on.  
He pauses a second. “Oh.” Now he turns red. “I guess the question is, would you?”  
“Yeah,” I admit.  
Peter finishes getting dressed. “Yeah, I'd let you.”  
Maybe I am rubbing off on him, metaphorically.  
My phone dings in rapid succession. I check it. It’s Misty.  
“Why the hell are you blowing up my phone, girl?” I mutter.  
After a few more seconds I turn off notifications and switch my phone off.  
“That’s weird,” Peter notes.  
“Yeah,” I say. “She’s weirdly clingy.” I sigh and stretch. “I need a good hot relaxing shower.”  
“I imagine,” Peter says. He kisses me as we trade places.  
I walk into the bathroom and throw off my clothes, eager to get into the shower.  
I can’t help but have a rock hard boner. Peter just gets me so sexually stimulated every time I look at him!  
I step into the shower and crank the hot water up and let the heat soak into me and am not surprised when I feel a tendril work its way up the inside of my thigh. My soapy hand stalls where it was scrubbing at my chest, and my muscles tense.  
“This feels nice, Eddie. Warm,” Venom muses.  
I guess showers are a turn-on for him.  
The tendril plays behind my balls, as if not sure which direction it wants to go. There are more tendrils, going opposite directions, and I can’t help but clench as one makes its way to my ass.  
I plant my hand against the shower wall in front of me and brace myself as the one at my ass thickens, spreading my cheeks but not pressing in yet.  
I let his head droop down to my chest and close my eyes.  
I shudder at the touch of the tendrils that wrap greedily around my cock.  
Venom toys with me for a minute, stroking my cock and teasing at my hole, and any relaxing effect the warm water had on me is lost as my muscles tense more and more.  
When the tendril finally pushes in, it’s painfully thick, and I slam my other hand against the wall beside me and lean heavily against both arms as I cry out in pain.  
My knees feel weak, and I expect he’s going to end up on them before this is over.  
When I manage to control myself after the initial surge of pain, I try to speak. “D-do you have to make it hurt?” I ask.  
I know Venom’s capable of fucking me and getting his pleasure out of me without hurting me, so why has he gone back to using such a thick tentacle? If he can feel my pleasure, he must be able to feel my pain too.  
“I don’t have to, but I like to.”  
“Why?” I groan.  
The tentacle thrusts its way deeper into my ass, and I almost lose my footing.  
“Because pain IS pleasure. Why do you think my species tears people to pieces and eats them?”  
“But you don’t do that.”  
“That’s mostly for your benefit and comfort.” He slithers around my body. “I can only repress so much before I start feeling… carnal.” This time Venom has manifested his head behind me and rumbles his words directly into my ear.  
I moan as he thrusts again. The tendril is extremely deep inside me now, and my hole is stretched painfully. The tentacle seems to be getting thicker the deeper it goes.  
“Ow, ow, ow!” I moan. “Please, stop, I’m not enjoying that too much!”  
“Remember, you promised!” Venom coos.  
Shit, I forgot about that.  
Venom’s face rubs against mine like a cat. “I don’t get to do this very much. And besides, I think you’ll come to enjoy this!”  
The tendril finally stops thrusting in, but instead starts sliding back and forth, using my hole freely but not going for my prostate yet.  
Venom works my cock, touching in all the right places making me bite my lip to hold back a moan.  
More of the creature manifests out of my back, and soon something is pressed up against my shoulder blades, and large arms wrap around me, hands grabbing at my pecs, toying with my nipples. I look hesitantly over my shoulder and see the alien’s humanoid head and shoulders behind me. Venom’s smile is wicked as the tentacle thrusts in and out of me, and I quickly turn my head away and close my eyes again.  
One of Venom’s hands explores down my ribs, claws tracing lightly over my skin and making me shudder from the sensation. It’s a similar sensation to someone sliding a knife across the skin without cutting it. The danger is attractive in a fucked up kind of way.  
The hand then moves down and wraps around my cock as the tendrils that were playing with it slink away. I look down as the large hand completely envelops my length. The claws turn inward and just barely brush the soft skin of my cock. The hand tightens slightly, then gives a single pump along my length, and I choke back a moan. My body has gone completely still. I know what those claws are capable of and don’t want them anywhere near my cock. The alien pauses, his hand unmoving for a moment.  
Then the tentacle in my ass thrusts hard, going deeper again, thickening as it does.  
I make a strangled sound and my legs give out on me. I drop to my knees in the bottom of the tub and try to brace myself against the walls again.  
The tentacle is too thick, it really hurts!  
My body quivers.  
Venom laughs aloud, then starts stroking my cock again.  
The tentacle in my ass doesn’t move, just stays inside me, impossibly big and painful.  
Venom’s other hand slides up my chest and wraps around my neck, making my breath stutter. The hand doesn’t squeeze, at least not yet. It just settles around my neck, nearly encircling it completely. I tilt my head back and stretch my neck nervously.  
Venom’s torso is pressing into my back, his head right beside mine. He’s not stopping me from moving, but I still feel as trapped as I have in the past when Venom has had me completely restrained with tendrils.  
The hand slides up and down my cock for another minute, then slows, and stops. Venom’s hand gives my cock a squeeze, just a bit too hard for comfort and I take in a gasp of air. Venom’s hand lets go, and slides across my hip, and down.  
At the same time, the tentacle in my ass starts to retreat, pulling out and letting my hole gradually shrink to a less painful dilation. When Venom removes himself from me completely, I take a breath of relief but can’t imagine I’m going to get off this easily.  
Venom’s hand continues down, cups one lobe of my ass and squeezes it briefly. Then his fingers explore farther, dipping between my cheeks.  
“Oh god,” I moan out loud as I feel the sharp claws probe at my entrance.  
This is a recipe for disaster - and probably internal bleeding.  
The claws scrape against my skin and my hole gives way for the two thick fingers that slide into me, stretching me instantly to the point of pain.  
I bite my lip to try to stay quiet.  
Venom’s fingers go in deep, and I can feel the claws scraping inside me.  
At the same time, the tendril originating from my thigh slides between my legs and wraps itself in a coil around my cock. The edges of it merge into each other, and it forms a thick cover over my cock and balls, encasing me completely. The casing starts to massage and move and press around my junk and I can’t help the moan that escapes me.  
The monster starts thrusting his fingers in and out of me and my next moan transforms into a whimper. “Please… Don’t cut me…”  
The fingers inside me curl in response, the claws scraping dangerously.  
My hands slip from the wall and I scramble to catch myself on the edge of the tub.  
My whole body is shaking, and I try to stop it, afraid the creature is going to slip and hurt me.  
“You’re so easy to scare,” Venom laughs.  
“Yeah, well, I’m fragile!” I choke out.  
Another fearful sound escapes me as Venom’s fingers scrape inside me again as he shifts his hand, the fingers twisting inside me and reaching for my prostate.  
“Do you like this better?” He asks in a sarcastic, yet, sensual way.  
I can still feel the claws threatening to puncture, but the feeling is nearly drowned out by the pleasure firing through me with each press into the gland. The sense of danger combined with the pleasure sends a strange thrill through my stomach and I shudder.  
Any chance of thinking through that particular reaction is shattered as the mass around my cock squeezes me in a not-unpleasant way at the same time as another presses into my prostate, and I can’t help but moan.  
“Yes, we like that!” Venom says, grinning widely, tongue flaring like a serpent.  
I open my mouth to answer, but can’t form a coherent word, a gross sound coming out of me instead. I give up on talking.  
I feel myself grow hard after another minute of stimulation, and the mass around me squeezes me again.  
“I think I can do even better,” Venom says with a smug tone.  
I’m not sure what he means at first, but I’m a tad nervous.  
He doesn’t change how he touches me, but I feel something shift in my guts, sending a brief wave of nausea through me. Venom moves downward inside of me and it’s hard to pinpoint where. It finally settles down near my groin.  
All my muscles are tense. What is he doing?  
The hand around my neck tightens down slightly, and something tickles around what must be my prostate, judging by the jolts of pleasure it unexpectedly causes.  
A moment later, a shock of pleasure shoots through me making me let out a strangled scream as I cum hard right here and now. It completely blindsides me. My hips buck forward, my fingers fumble at the edge of the tub, and the pleasure just keeps coming and coming, waves of it practically drowning me.  
My whole body feels like it’s lighting up, and just when it gets so intense that I think all my nerves are going to fry, the creature bites down on my shoulder and lets his teeth sink in deep. I scream again and my vision starts to go black.  
Venom squeezes my prostate and milks my cock for all it’s worth, forcing me to keep experiencing the overwhelming pleasure even through the pain.  
Again the mix of pleasure and pain sends me reeling, my lungs taking a gasp of air before forcing it out as another scream.  
When I’m left leaning heavily against the wall in front of him, panting in exertion and pain, the pleasure finally fading from my body, Venom’s teeth retreat from my flesh as Venom also removes his fingers from my ass and the mass around my cock melts into my body.  
“Such a good boy,” Venom praises, before the rest of him starts to sink into my body as well.  
The hand around my neck tightens into a collar briefly before it, too, sinks away.  
Panting, I fall back into a sitting position. I suck in a breath of air between my teeth in pain at the sting of the water hitting the wounds on my shoulder, but don't have it in me to move out from under the stream.  
My head droops, and I stare numbly between my knees and watch cum and blood wash down the drain.  
“You… you wanna heal the bite?” I murmur, breathing heavily, still shuddering from the many climaxes.  
“Not just yet, I want Peter to see the hickie!”  
“Seriously?”  
“Think of it as a memento of our time together!”  
“Alright, fine,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Can you at least stop the bleeding?”  
Venom complies with that at least.  
I hear a knocking on the door.  
“Hey, Eddie, you ok?” Peter calls in. “Why were you screaming?”  
“Gimme a second to finish washing up and I’ll show you!” I call back, hoping he doesn’t feel cucked when I explain my little excursion with Venom.

WILLOW AN: Oh… God… that was so… So fucking hot! I’m not sure how to feel about that! *Confused sexy sounds.*

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
YEEEEEE!!!!! Somebiddy catually likes ma work!!!!!

LUCAS AN: Willow, I don’t know what you’re on that you think… THAT… was arousing, but hey, different strokes for different folks. No pun intended.

WILLOW AN: You’re such a prude!

LUCAS AN: Ah, yes, being a tad grossed out by alien tentacles molesting a man in the shower leading to pain is me “being a prude.” My bad.

WILLOW AN: You’re just a kink shamer! And it’s not NonCon, Eddie was into it!

LUCAS AN: “NonCon” is just rape, Willow. Rape is not a pleasent thing, nor a kink.

WILLOW AN: Besides the point! 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Look everybosdy acn we just agrew ato diagree and jerk odds to watt we like an call it a day pleasye? 

WILLOW AN: Yes, we can. Lucas.

LUCAS AN: *Rolls eyes so hard they pop out of skull.*  
…

A week or so goes by and life starts to get weird for me. 

WILLOW AN: So, Mark got ONE sentence into this new section and was like “Willow, I’m bred, you do it!” So, I will. Gool ‘ol reliable Mark at it again!

Misty continues to be obnoxious, constantly trying to be around me, constantly sticking her nose into my business and constantly wanting to be all over me. It’s driving me absolutely bananas / bonkers!  
Not only that, but I think that Dad is having an affair with someone. There’s this park ranger chick that he met during the whole Carnage incident. Her name is Kate Rodd I think, I don’t know.  
One night Peter and Scott and Ava went to go see a movie neither Gwen nor I was interested in seeing. So, Gwen stayed at my house and we binge watched Stranger Things for like the zillionth time. She crashed in my room with me and we both slept in my bed (eew, not like that you perv!).  
The next morning when we came downstairs to go to school and found Dad and Kate together! The way they were lounging and playing footsie, there’s definitely something going on. As the next week went by even more evidence makes itself evident. Dad’s always sneaking off after work. Every now and then I’ll be a good samaritan and do his laundry for him and, other than that strange scent Dad always seems to have about him, his clothes also have a different and distinct scent to them, that of the cologne that Kate uses. And he’s been so happy all the time out of nowhere.  
I voice all of this to the group at lunch.  
“Um, is that a problem?” Gwen asks me when I get done. “You were having problems with him when he was all sullen and snippy and now you’re having problems because he’s being too happy? What’s your damage?”  
“I’m not saying that,” I grumble, picking at the apple crisp on my tray, lazily.  
“I don’t know why you’re so concerned with him,” Scott says. “He’s an adult, he can do whatever he wants.”  
“I will have to say though, he does smell nice,” Peter says and gets a dreamy look on his face.  
We all stare at him.  
“That was the most creeptastic thing you’ve ever said,” Scott says, bluntly.  
Peter shrugs.  
“Anyway, as I was saying before my boyfriend got all creepy, hasn’t anyone noticed how weird he’s gotten?” I get blank looks.  
“We don’t have that much contact with him, you know that, right?” Scott says. Well, except Gwen, maybe. She gets arrested at least twice a year for one reason or another.”  
“THANKS, Scott!” Gwen says batting her eyelashes sarcastically.  
The lunch bell rings and we quickly dispose of our trash and head back to our classes.  
“Back to the salt mines,” I mutter to Scott, making him laugh before he departs.  
I stop outside the cafeteria and make my way over to the mechanical pencil dispenser the school has. I have terrible trouble keeping track of my pencils and am always having to buy new ones.  
I pop two quarters into the machine and turn the crank. It’s jammed. I twist even harder but only manage to bruise my hand.  
“Piece of shit!” I growl.  
“Here, allow me,” a cool voice says behind me. Misty gently moves me aside and takes hold of the crank and gives it a sharp twist. There is the sound of grinding metal and the pencil pops out a little tube at the base of the machine.  
“Um, thanks?” I say, staring in disbelief. “How exactly did you do that?”  
She shrugs. “It’s all in the way you move your wrists.”  
I expect something more but there isn’t anything.  
“So… Bella… I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Misty says.  
I glance at my watch, distractedly. “I’m going to be late.”  
She grabs my upper arm as I go to leave. “Woah, wait a minute! Let’s talk first!”  
“We’ll be late for class,” I say.  
She shrugs. “So, we’ll be late for class.”  
“Not much of a scholar, are you? I say, coldly.  
She shrugs. “Nope, I’ve got a plan for my life and school isn’t a part of it.”  
“Ah, and I am?” I ask.  
Edwisty smiles and my stomach twists into knots. “Let's take a walk,” he says.  
She makes a move to stroll down an empty hallway but I stay put.  
She glances back at me. “What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?”  
“After you flipped out over nothing on our date? No, not really,” I say.  
Misty gives me a puppy dog face and I roll my eyes.  
“If I go with you, will you leave me alone?” She nods, though I can tell by the look in my eyes she’ll probably keep negging me.  
I walk alongside her, stiff and controlled. I’m still mad at her. “So, what exactly is it you want to talk about?” I ask.  
“You,” she says simply.  
The hall is completely abandoned, to my dismay. There used to be a lot more kids in Marvel Falls.  
“How exactly are you doing, Bella?” Misty asks. “Thriving in this school environment, I assume. You’re always with your friends. People talk to you. They must really think you’re something. Am I far off?”  
“No, I guess not,” I say. “Gwen, Peter and Lauren are my besties.”  
“Yes… though you’re missing an essential part of the high school experience,” Misty says.  
“Oh? And that would be?”  
“The girlfriend,” Misty says, trying to lay as much seductive beauty as possible.  
I actually laugh in his face. “You want to be my BOYFRIEND?”  
“SHHH!” Edward says, putting a finger to her lips. “You want to attract every school official in the building?”  
“If it means getting you off my back on grounds of sexual harassment, then yes.”  
“Wait, WHAT?” She gasps.  
“You’ve stalked me, analyzed my whole life to look for patterns, act like a complete freak on our first date, try to gaslight me afterwards, and then have the nerve to still pursue me romantically? You can take your proposal and shove it!”  
I storm off and leave him in the hallway looking heartbroken. Good.

LUCAS AN: WILLOW. FIND+REPLACE IS YOUR FRIEND. USE IT.  
…

Misty’s POV:

After sunset I head out and find his house after some references to Google maps.  
I have taken Mom’s car, I hope she won't wake up and notice.  
I get out far back from the house and make it there on foot.  
It is night time. But, it’s summer so I am hoping that he will be staying up a bit later. 

LUCAS AN: WHAT FUCKING MONTH / SEASON / TIME OF YEAR IS IT? HOLY SHIT I CANNOT KEEP TRACK! GHAAAA!

The house is far off the road and completely engulfed by trees. A little box, the small yard ending abruptly at the edge of the little square, trees and shrubbery taking over.  
With the sky totally black it feels like I am shrouded by a blanket.  
I approach the house and am filled with giddy glee.  
Eddie is still up. He is up in his room at his desk. I think he is either writing or on his laptop. He is totally visible thanks to the floor to ceiling wide window of his room. A perfectly framed picture.  
I pull out my camera and zoom in until I get the perfect shot and start snapping pictures. I think that these are some of my best work, easily. I am not catching him at a far off angle or his back or a weird shot where he doesn't know I am watching and has an uninteresting look on his face. This is beautiful.  
Still, the photos will never be able to capture the true him. I plan to however.  
Eventually. I let the camera fall to my chest and pull out my binoculars.  
I watch Eddie intently. The little unconscious ticks he has, the way he flips his pencil while he works, it is like a melody. His whole demeanor is like the most addictive song ever made. His whole body is an instrument.  
He is wearing a Solo: A Star Wars Story promotional t-shirt and sleep pants, but it might as well be designer clothing. He could be wearing nothing more than rags and he could still look utterly gorgeous.  
Those same sick intoxicating thoughts bubble up from my subconscious. Eddie makes everyday worth living. He makes the whole world seem bigger and more exciting. A life worth living. I never knew just how dead I was. How empty and how cold and utterly miserable. I never knew! I want him so bad. Here with me here in my life. Spending every moment with me. I would do anything for him and more. The idea of us as partners, treating one another on a daily basis… I want to burst out sobbing. He is like heaven. My bible. My everything. My rapture, my life, my death, my whole being. He doesn't know how much I need him. I need to show him. I need to convince him.  
I think of that piece of shit, Peter, and my blood boils. How dare he even THINK that he can be with Eddie? I see the longing in Peter’s eyes. A burning need. Almost as intense as mine. Almost. He needs to go.  
Eddie is mine. All mine. Mine. Mine. MINE!!!  
Eddie gets up from his chair and stretches. I see him go over to his closet and pull out a different pair of pants and a new shirt.  
My gut clenches. Oh my god. I am the luckiest girl in the world. Take it off take it off, TAKE IT OFF! My insides are screaming with the intensity of a thousand suns exploding. I need to see him in the purest of all forms!  
Suddenly, the front door to the house opens.  
I freeze. Horror floods through me.  
Oh god, I forgot his Dad is home!  
Sheriff Brock walks out of the house and saunters into the yard. He sighs. He holds a beer in his hand and sips it. He looks back at the house.  
Is he hiding it from Eddie? Everyone in town assumes that man, Brock, is a total drunk. It wouldn't surprise me. He always seems really out of it. Very depressed. I could care less.  
However, he is very close to me. Way too close for comfort.  
I carefully drop to the ground and lay flat.  
To my horror, Mr. Brock walks up to the forest and slowly walks around aimlessly, quickly draining his beer.  
He is an inch from me.  
I look up at his face, unaware of my presence. I then look down and squeeze my eyes shut.  
If I get caught he will have so many questions for me that I will have to struggle to answer. What would I answer with?  
I hear the finishing gulp of liquid and feel a sharp pain in my head as he throws the bottle away. It bounces off my skull and I have to use every bit of my being not to make any noise.  
I can hear him leave.  
I slowly look up just in time to see him return to the house and close the door.  
The porch light snaps off.  
I look up to Eddie’s room. He is still there.  
The thought that I will soon have him all to myself makes me glow with anticipation. Soon, very soon!  
Then, someone else walks over to him.  
I am taken aback.  
“NO!” I hiss under my breath.  
It’s Peter. He walks up to Eddie, sitting at his desk, and puts his arms around him. He’s totally naked.  
Eddie tilts his head back, a smile on his face, and they kiss.  
Jealousy roars through me like a lion. I want to grab Peter and rip his insides out.  
“EDDIE IS MINE, NOT YOURS!” I snarl, quietly.  
Peter starts rubbing on Eddie and It becomes apparent to me that they’re about to have sex. What unlucky timing. But then, as I think about it, I decide that it is actually very good timing!  
I approach the house, hoping my idea will play out as planned!  
…

Eddie’s POV:

WILLOW AN: This is my first time really writing a sex scene! Mark is always the one to do it, but I want to take a crack at it! Let me know how I do!

Peter comes to me naked, his flaccid cock dangling deliciously between his legs, his strong, smooth body moving confidently.  
He drops to his knees and looks up at me expectantly as he begins to gently massage my upper legs and thighs, patiently working his hands toward my crotch where my erection steadily grows into a bulge beneath my sleep pants.  
Although the anticipation is overwhelming, he is deliberate in taking his time opening up my pants and pulling out my cock, exposing me to the cool air of the room and his warm, tender touch.  
I feel his fingers mingle over my shaft as he explores my hot, hard flesh, licking his lips in expectation of what's to come. He's eager to please and wants me to give him all I have.  
When he takes me into his mouth, I feel the warmth and wetness and it sends a rush of pleasure through me.  
He's patient, gentle, and knows how to please me.  
I sit and moan with content, absorbing the delightful pleasure of being serviced by my willing and passionate lover.  
I watch his head bob as he strokes me with his mouth, feel his fingers holding my shaft and fondling my balls as his tongue licks at my cockhead and he leaves a glaze of saliva on my shaft that cools as it evaporates for an additional erotic sensation.  
Peter takes position between my legs.  
With my shirt removed, he lets his hands wander over my smooth chest, titillating my nipples as he continues to tease my cock with his lips, tongue, and teeth, nibbling ever so gently on my firm manhood standing proud for his expert caress.  
I sit and watch myself receive this oral performance with a smile of satisfaction and a feeling of euphoria at experiencing this episode of lust-driven man-love.  
His passion on my shaft increases as he builds me to a sustainable erection.  
It's been said that only a man knows how to really take care of another man, and I believe that to be true.  
He knows just how to hold me, just how to stroke me, just how much pressure to apply, when to work me up and back me off, how to hit all the tender, sensitive spots… because he knows his own manhood and where those spots are. He doesn't have to explore or experiment, he knows exactly where to go the first time, every time, and it keeps the arousal constant.  
When I feel myself ready, I take Peter by the shoulders and steer him to the bed where I push him over.  
He gets on his hands and knees, feet over the edge, ass in the air, and looks back at me with a burning need in his eyes.  
He waits patiently as I coat my shaft with a slippery lube from a nearby drawer, then step in behind and use the head of my cock to probe for that sweet spot.  
I'm anxious, but I don't lose my erection as I tease his asshole, helping Peter relax as I now begin to gently push and then penetrate him, feeling my head slip past, then the sensation of warmth as I enter.  
I squeeze myself in slowly, allowing the lube to do the work, backing off and pushing forward until finally I feel myself being taken all the way in.  
I bury my shaft to the hilt, grinding my hips against his smooth, firm ass, feeling the warmth of his hole seeping into my already sizzling cock.  
I grip Peter’s hips and draw back for my first thrust, feeling his tightness as his muscles contract, eager to draw me back in.  
I fuck him slowly at first with long, deep strokes, watching myself, glistening with lube, as I draw back and drive forward. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure through me as I savor the warm, snug burrow I've sunk myself into.  
My hands remain attached to my lover's waist, holding him fast as my rhythm increases.  
Sweat glistens on both of us now and our bodies become slippery as we fuck and grind together.  
I feel myself reaching climax and I struggle to hold onto Peter’s waist while my hips pound against his ass, my strokes becoming deeper still and longer as blood rushes to my cockhead.  
I feel myself bulge before my orgasm erupts with a ferocity I've never before experienced, my ejaculation so powerful I just know I'm blasting cum deep inside. I grunt and groan in relief as my hands grip and my hips press hard against his butt cheeks, clenched tight around my throbbing cock while my balls drain into him.  
The sensation is so intense for my lover that Peter cums, too, shooting rope-like strands of sticky semen across the top comforter of the bed.  
It's over all too soon, but then I realize we still have time for play tonight and that Peter is eager to please and be pleased.

WILLOW AN: Is it good? Please tell me it’s good!

LUCAS AN: It’s not abjectly disgusting in the way it’s written, so that’s a win in my opinion.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Yo bitches im bak and ready to finnish off the chaspter witha bqang get it cause wulliw already whrote a sex scene lol. Btw gret job stepsis that was hot as hell a 10 outta ten!!!!!!

Peter and I lay next to each other after our hot and sexy sex.  
We are both about to drift off to sleep but Then I looked out the window and screamed… Misty was spying on me and she was taking a video tape of me! And she was masticating to it! She’s sitting on the window sill like a crazy ass hoe!  
“EW, YOU FUCKING PERV, STOP LOOKING AT ME NAKED! ARE YOU CRAZY OR WHAT?!”  
I throw my arm out and grab a shoe from the floor with a Venom tendril and sling shot it into the window. The window cracks as it collides and Misty shrieks.  
We can hear her fingers lose their grip with the window sill and we hear her fall and tumble down across the roof.  
I run over to the window - now a spider web of cracks - and throw it open to look down to see Misty running away into the woods as fast as possible - lost in the inky blackness of night in seconds.  
The cold air makes my nipples go rock hard as I turn to face Peter, a look of grim horror on both of our faces.  
…

Today Peter and I walk into school, utterly terrified.  
I am wearing a red hoodie sweatshirt with an angry bird on it, a pair of brown pants, blue high top sneakers, and a green baseball cap. I felt like having a ton of color today to balance out the greyness I’m feeling inside.  
Peter is wearing a hoodie that’s three sizes too big so it hides his hands, a pair of tight black skinny jeans with pleated knees, black shoes with sky-blue shoelaces, and a beanie with a “fuck off” pin on it.  
We make a beeline for the others and practically leap on them to tell them what’s going on.  
Gwen is wearing a purple t-shirt dress with black leggings with pink flowers on them, purple boots with white fuzzy lining, a black beanie, and a ton of black gothic makeup. She has a half circle nose ring in. a large purple pendant in the shape of a skull is around her neck.  
Scott is dressed like an e-boy and Ava is dressed in her usual outfit.  
“Guys, guys, we need to talk!” Peter and I exclaim.  
Then we both gasp when we see what Scott and Ava are doing. They’re sitting next to each other and frenching!  
“Huh?” We both say, dumbfounded. “What are you two doing?!”  
The two separate with a loud gross spitty smack.  
We both grimace, sticking our tongues out. God, we don’t kiss like that, I don’t think. I was too horny the last couple times to really notice.  
“What’s the issue?” Venom says to us with my mouth. “Tongues are awesome!”  
He demonstrates this by extending my tongue into its own which flips around, sending drool everywhere. I bite down hard and Venom yelps.  
“RETRACT IT!” I yell quietly around the tongue and he does so. “Not in public!” I say, irritated. “Save that shit for ‘private time.’”  
Venom chuckles inside my head and vibrates beneath my skin.  
Gwen rolls her eyes. “Ok, ok, what’s the deal, you two?” She demands.  
Peter and I both sit down and run down what happened with Misty spying on us. Gwen, Scott and Ava stare at us wide eyed.  
“She did WHAT?” They all say at once.  
“You heard us!” Peter says. “That bicth is crazy!”  
“She’s been nothing but weird to me since… since she replaced Peter the first time…” I say.  
Gwen bites her lip. “This is very bad!”  
Ava rubs her temples. “Christ, what have I gotten myself into?” She mutters.  
“A hell of a mess is what,” Scott says sadly.  
Ava touches his knee. “If you’re there, I’ll jump into any mess imaginable!”  
They both look lovey dovey at each other and start making out again.  
“Guys, focus!” I yell. “What are we going to do?”  
“Just go to the police,” Ava says around Scott’s tongue.  
“We can’t do that!” Peter says. “Weren’t you listening? Eddie and I were having sex, if we tell someone, they’d confiscate the footage and we’d get charged for underage sex!”  
Gwen blinks. “My guys, you’re both 17. Minors. She, whether she realizes it or not, has created child pornography. Considering you’re the son of the Sheriff I think he’d let you off with a slap on the wrist, versus Misty’s charges of stalking and the creation of child pornography.  
“That makes sense,” Scott says.  
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Peter and I both say, looking at each other and nodding.  
The bell rings for first period.  
“I guess we’ll take care of it after school,” I say. We all nod in agreement and scramble off to our classes.  
Most of the day goes fine all things considered. Nothing insane happens, just a regular day of boring old high school. It’s almost kind of nice to have a day where everything doesn’t go to complete shit! The classes that are engaging are engaging and the classes that are boring are boring. Simple as that. It makes me think of the first week of school and how normal that seemed by comparison. How peasant a time that was in hindsight.  
However, near the middle-end of the day, everything goes to absolute shit!  
Peter and I have just gotten out of the lunch room and we’ve decided to sneak off and blow each other “for dessert.”  
However, Venom announces that he’s got his eyes on the back of my head (literally lol) and that we’re being followed.  
I glance over my shoulder and see none other than Misty. She;’s wearing an outfit but I’m too mad and angry and bitter and upset to describe it!  
I whirl around. “What the hell, Misty!” I yell behind us.  
She jumps.  
It’s only us in the hallway, nobody else.  
We both stomp over to her. “What the hell are you doing?” We demand. “Wasn’t filming us fucking last night enough for you?”  
“Eddie!” She says, elated. “Please, let me explain!”  
“What’s there to explain?” I say. “I demand to know!”  
“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” She squeals. “I love everything about you, I just wanna fucking be with you!”  
I quiver with anger. “Are you INSANE?” I yell. “I HATE YOU! Our date sucked, you’re creepy, you’re obsessive and stalkerish and annoying like all women!”  
Both Peter and I back her into a corner.  
“You listen to us, stay away or we’ll beat the ever loving shit out of you, ok? You’re a danger to us and society at large -”  
“WHAT THE ACTUALL HELL FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” A shrill voice says shrilly.  
Oh god no, it’s Slutty McSlutterson, Mary Jane!  
Suddenly Misty starts screaming. “MJ! HELP ME, PLEASE! They’ve gone psycho! They just tried to assault me and threatened to beat me up if it told anyone!”  
“What?” I say, confused. “We never -”  
Misty starts crying obviously fake tears. “Please, don’t hurt me! I just said I liked you, that doesn’t mean you could grope me!”  
“Who said anything about groping -”  
“And YOU!” Sh jabs at Peter. “‘Gay’ my ass! You were macking on me you perv!  
“I never did that -”  
“OH MY GOD!” Mary Jane squeals, running over. She shoulders Peter and I hard and yanks Misty away from us, hugging her. “YOU MONSTERS!” She shrieks.  
We both try to say something but can’t get a word out because Mary Jane is screaming obscenities at us louder than we can speak.  
She then runs off with Misty.  
Misty flips us off before she rounds a corner leaving Peter and I alone in the hall with a sinking feeling that our lives are about to get a whole hell of a lot worse.


	19. Misty’s Notebook and the Taken Men [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie, Peter, and the gang make a shocking discovery about Misty Que and her past, ending in an epic final confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with heavy subjects such a sexual trauma, sexual exploitation, and some other uncomfortable subjects. be aware!

I realize that Peter and I really messed up when we arrive at school.  
We’ve accidentally given Misty some credibility. From the point of view of everyone in the school, Misty is the victim of us being assholes to her. She was just trying to be nice and start a relationship and I attacked her completely unprovoked.  
Completely untrue. It utterly grinds my gears.  
I am 100% on board with the Mee Too movement, but I was unaware how easy it is for bad actors to disguise their own shittiness under the guise of it to get what they want. It’s also not lost on me that this feeds perfectly into the whole “gay men are actually more likely to commit rape than straight men” argument that, as far as I know, is untrue. It grosses me out how easily the people here latched onto it.  
Nobody says a single word to us whatsoever outside of Scott and Gwen, who they themselves are also ignored by proxy, seen as “accomplices to abusers.”  
I try to start conversations with a couple people around my locker and in class. I get nothing but passive aggressive single word answers, if not outright ignored.  
In American History, Mr. Rogers hands out stacks of corrected papers to be passed down the rows to their owners. I take mine and try handing the stack to the person behind me. It doesn’t help that that person is the Class President, Norman Osborne.  
He ignores me and keeps tapping away on his ChromeBook.  
I try getting his attention for a few seconds before getting irritated and end up slapping the stack down on top of his keyboard, hard enough to make other people look in my direction.  
Norman simply stops and looks up at me with the most hateful eyes I have ever seen since the cover art kid for the first Insidious movie. He takes his own paper without breaking eye contact and sends the rest back before going back to what he was doing.  
At first I feel intimidated but then I just get super pissed.  
My whole entire day is like this. By the time lunch happens I am thoroughly done.  
As soon as she enters the cafeteria, I walk over to Mary Jane.  
“MJ, we need to talk,” I say.  
She simply raises her hands up and walks past me.  
I run after her and cut her off. “We need to talk,” I say again.  
“I need some fucking space, Eddie, beat it!”  
“What?” I say, irritated. “You afraid I’m going to attack you?”  
“No, I know you won’t. You’re chickenshit. But I do not have time for freaks.”  
“You hang out with Misty and call me a freak?”  
“Misty may be eccentric but she’s not a freak!”  
“Wanna bet?”  
“I only gamble when I know I’ll win.”  
“So, you admit that she worries you, right?”  
Mary Jane glares at me. “She says she likes you, maybe a little too much, so what? That’s an excuse to treat her like shit?”  
“Did you not hear anything I said?”  
“They’re just allegations.”  
“She only has allegations herself!” I snap. “We got in her face, so what? Everything else is her good will, which I think you and I both know she doesn’t have!”  
“Look Eddie, if you want me to call off the war horses you can go fuck yourself, alright? I’m done with you.” She roughly shoves me out of the way and turns to walk backwards a few steps as she says, “Give me some fucking space, man, I’m kind of - no REALLY - pissed at you right now!” She says loud enough for everyone to hear, presumably to clue them in that, no, us talking amongst ourselves is not capitulation of any kind.  
I start quaking with frustration. “I’m sorry!” I yell after her.  
She simply gives me the finger without looking back.  
…

I can’t pay attention in algebra. I used to care that I’m barely passing a Freshman level class that even advanced 8th graders come over from the middle school to take, but I can’t give two fucks at the moment.  
I feel so guilty that Peter and I dragged the others into this. Gwen and Scott have other friends outside of our friend group. This whole incident has them “cancelled” by proxy and they’ve lost those connections as a result. It’s so shitty!  
They insist they’re fine and that they support us fully, but it doesn’t help ease my guilt any.  
The bell rings and I get up and leave as quickly as possible, able to only because I didn’t bother taking anything out of my trapper keeper.  
As I walk briskly down the hall I slam into none other than Misty, causing her to drop a couple things.  
“You going to pick those up?” She says. She has such a sly grin on her face.  
Some jock shoves me out of the way and picks them up for her, glaring at me. Oh, great, we have a white knight on our hands.  
Misty and the jock leave and I notice a notebook they missed that’ll be trampled. I pick it up, even though I should let it get destroyed under the sneakers of a million students. It’s a well cared for average composition notebook with a yellow cover and Misty’s name along with some doodles written in purple Sharpie on it.  
As I walk back to my locker, unwilling to chase after Misty to return it at the moment, I notice something sticking out of the side. I slip it out and see it’s a polaroid of a dead animal taken with the camera she uses for the school paper. It’s roadkill by the look of it, mutilated by a tire, barely intact, just a hunk of bloody fury meat with jagged bones jutting from the poor thing’s lifeless body. Why the hell would she photograph this thing in such a dramatic way? That's so fucked up! It’s a close up shot too, there are flies all over it, wouldn’t that be super gross to get up and personal with?  
I tuck the photo back into place, clipped to the page with a paperclip, and immediately take a trip to the office.  
The receptionist looks up at me and smiles, the only one I’ve gotten today. “Hello Eddie, what can I help you with?”  
“Hey, can I use the phone to call home? I’m really not feeling well, I think I have a migraine going, it’s making me sick to my stomach!”  
“Oh no!” She says, her face going into a sympathetic pout. “Of course, it’s over there, she says pointing to the phone at the other end of the desk. I’m sorry you’re sick!”  
“Yeah, sick,” I mutter as I punch in my home phone number.  
...

At home, safely up in my room, I sit at the rickety desk by the window and open the notebook.  
I flip through it and am mortified.  
At the start of the notebook the passages are all neat and meticulously composed all in a glittery purple pen, but as it goes on, it gets progressively more unhinged. Towards the back of the book the pages upon pages of rambling are little more than wonky squiggles all shoved together and overlapping each other.  
The few words and sentences I can actually make out are violent, hate filled, and disturbing.  
One of the last pages that is semi-readable before it devolves into complete nonsense reads:  
“What am I? Nothing but everything. A thousand words of a long dead song takes me back to a gym in 2009 where I run laps and hate my life. Nothing but rolling tears and claws ripping at my chest hating everything. Wishing my life were still as reserved as it used to be. Pop music a myth, sexuality a rumor, life along ways away, ignoring me. Lonely and barely alive but still begging for it. Thinking of that cafeteria and the friends I found I never had. A rude awakening to the awful dimensionality. The sweet lies of the upper middle class that never heard the voice of the welfare child, who never spoke a word, didn’t prepare me. They lulled me into a sanitary blah. Years go by and here I am on the cusp of womanhood where I just want to bash my head in against a cement wall and live inside Good Time and Fireflies by Owl City. They were during a different kind of pain I crave. Better than this. I now tread new water with new and worse pain. What to do, what to do, what to do? More tears and confusion and self loathing to make my insomnia play up. 2:24 Am and still no semblance of tiredness. I want to listen to Skrillex, more songs that remind me of a more naïve time before I became a sick fuck. I was six when that album came out and eight when it all ended. Fuck Uncle Rob of fucking me! I’m glad you’re dead and are now Satin’s fleshlight. You took away everything from me and ruined me and now I can’t get control over anything, not me, not the world and not boys without drugs. Fuck you for making me end up here, that is ASS SHIT! I try to do something and I hit roadblocks. I fucking hate these people! Let them die, let them die, burn in my book and in hell in forever and for long! It’s 2:39 Am right now and I’m getting confuzzled. The light hurts my eyes. Skrillex’s With You Friends just ended. He says Bye Bye all cutesy at the end. I want to sob again. But I changed the track and now it’s Kill Everybody. And I will. I will. I will kill everyone tomorrow. Ok I’m going to die if I don’t go. So, I’m going to go so I don’t die and I can kill instead. Thank you Pencil and Paper, you help me hate things a little less.” It ends with a little smiley face at the end. 

LUCAS AN: Uh, yeah, Willow, you sure you want to go here? The whole Uncle thing… I’m a little concerned. And by “a little,” I mean A LOT!

The color drains from my face as I finish reading.  
The photo of that dead squirrel isn’t the only picture paper clipped to the pages of the notebook. There are a LOT.  
All of them are… uncomfortable to say the least. The angles, the lighting, they look wrong; intentionally stilted. They’re very dreamlike - or rather - nightmarish.  
There are a few other photos of dead animals, a freshly hit deer with its sides caved in, a bird that broke its neck hitting a window, and a little mouse in a trap, to name a few.  
The creepiest thing, though, are the photos that pertain to me. And that’s most of the ones in here. A lot of voyeurism shots of us at the lunch table with the others and a few of me outside the school. She has photos of my jacket and my bag, presumably from when briefly unattended in the mornings. There’s a shot of my truc, both at a far off angle and also from a point of view that suggests the person photographing is about to be run over.  
Getting away from the polaroids, there’s a school photo of me from my old school that appears to have been dug up on the internet and printed off on the school’s black and white printers. The garbage area around the picture has been cut away with flowery craft scissors that little kids use a lot, giving it a “pretty” border.  
My heart pounds as I look over everything.  
There is a drawing of me in an anime-esque style with my head slightly tilted and my eyes dreamy and unfocussed. My mouth is open and a cascade of blood drawn in red Sharpie rolls over my chin down the front of me.  
There is a folded piece of 8 1/2 by 11 paper folded and clipped to the page. I unfold it and am mortified. It’s a short fanfic story written by her, presumably written on the school ChromeBooks and printed out on the printer in the School Paper’s office.  
In this short story, the reason I’m bleeding is because she asked me to chew my own tongue off… and I lovingly comply. Then she kisses me and savors the taste of the blood. 

LUCAS AN: FUCKING CHRIST Willow! This is awfully excessive, isn’t it? The roadkill photos aren't creepy enough for you? EEEW! 

A few pages later there are school photos of myself, Peter Quill, Scott, and a few other people, including Ice Man. The photos are damaged, sloppy Xs scratched - with a pin or something - over the eyes. Under the photos in red is written “Speechless.”  
Scott has a green heart drawn on his cheek and borders around the picture in the same color that seem affectionate almost. Oh, Christ, she isn’t fantasizing about him too, is she?  
A bunch of the other students’ pictures have red ink drawn over the scratches, the damaged paper soaking up the color and, on the back of the page and leaking onto the page after it, it resembles actual blood.  
One of these people is Ice Man. Under the picture “Taken” is written. The same word is written under all of the other dudes.  
My breath catches in my throat. Is that why we had that stranger danger/exploitation assembly? Anonymous tales of these other dudes who had unspeakable things done to them, like Ice Man?  
The Xs on my eyes and Peter’s haven’t been inked yet.  
I start to panic, not really knowing what this means.  
I immediately grab my phone and send a text to the group chat. School is out, they should be in the student parking lot about now.  
I write in all caps, “GUYS GET OVER TO MY HOUSE, NOW, WE NEED TO TALK! IT’S ABOUT MISTY! THIS IS HUGE AND SERIOUSLY NOT GOOD! I THINK WE’RE IN DANGER!”  
…

I sit in my room with Gwen and Scott.  
When I sent them my text they came over immediately.  
Peter Quill apparently didn’t get the memo until he was already on the bus and, in any case, wouldn't have been able to make it due to some reasoning made by his stepfather. 

LUCAS AN: Wait, isn’t Peter living with Eddie now? Willow, when is this chunk you sent me from? You know you can CHANGE things before they’re sent to me, right? GHAAAA!

WILLOW AN: The editing is your job, that’s why I’m paying you fifteen an hour. : )

LUCAS AN: You make life unnecessarily hard. Sit and spin. 

Gwen pours through reports and news articles pertaining to my finds while Scott uses a handheld scanner of his to archive every part of the notebook in case anything should happen, that way we’ll have a back up.  
Gwen finally takes a shaky sigh. “I… I didn’t have a clue,” she mumbles.  
“Clue about what?” I ask.  
“About Misty,” she says. “What that one ramby passage said about an Uncle? According to a police report and a tumultuous court case’s documents I dredged up, that was a real thing. Misty was… assaulted… by her Uncle. Multiple times. The first time was at her own eighth birthday party…” she says with her face twisted into a look of horror, grief, and disgust.” 

LUCAS AN: Willow. Where are you going with this?

She takes a choked swallow and continues. “If these medical reports I was able to find are anything to go off of, that trauma caused her mind to shatter and fester for another eight years into whatever it is now. Her parents’ religious backgrounds forbid any kind of medical treatment outside of ‘The Lord.’ as such, she’s currently unmedicated.”  
“Christ, no wonder she wanted to escape her own life and take over Peter Quill’s,” Scott says.  
“So, I guess that if all of this is to be believed, she’s lost control of her own life and is taking it out on others, IE, men?” I say.  
Gwen shrugs. “I guess.” 

LUCAS AN: Willow, what the fuck is this? Are you seriously creating a plotline in which a rape survivor becomes a serial killer / rapist herself? You haven’t gotten to that part yet, you need to tell me, NOW.

WILLOW AN: Oh, so now you’re growing a conscience? Where was that before, huh?

LUCAS AN: I don’t care about your behind the scenes drama, plot holes, character stuff, whatever. But this is serious shit and I think we both know you’re not qualified to write something like that. Especially in a shitty fanfic!

WILLOW AN: Hey, I’ve worked hard on this “shitty fanfic” and so have you. Look, a lot of TV shows and movies tackle those kinds of stories, why can’t I?

LUCAS AN: And those TV shows and movies have a tendency to fetishize other people’s pain and not do it with any kind of care or nuance. It’s questionable at best and tacky / legitimately harmful at worst! 

WILLOW AN: It’s my story goddammit! I can do what I want!

LUCAS AN: And who’s editing it for you? I’m the one making the crap you and Mark give me actually readable. I let a lot fly because I think it’s dumb and funny but in this instance, I’m putting my foot down. 

WILLOW AN: YOU NEVER STAND UP FOR MY ART! Noncon is a female issue and I am a woman, so I think I can go there if I want. 

LUCAS AN: Oh, rape is “noncon” now? Do we need to have a sit down with Mom or something?

WILLOW AN: Don’t drag Mom into this. Just edit what I give you.

LUCAS AN: A) don’t threaten me, I have seniority over you, B) tread VERY carefully. You had better handle this with some fucking finesse.

WILLOW AN: Deal. I shouldn’t have to agree with anything, I always write with finesse.

LUCAS AN: Sure Jan.

Gwen sighs. “So, what are we going to do?”  
“Call the police?” Scott suggests.  
“I tried,” I say. “After I texted you guys I called my Dad at the station and asked him to file a report, even sent him some pictures, and he actually had the gaul to say I FORGED the notebook as revenge on Misty for the school wide silence treatment.”  
“Fucking WHAT?” Scott says.  
“I know, right?” I say. “I wish it was an elaborate joke, but it isn’t. It’s way worse than that!”  
I feel ready to burst into tears, something I’ve rarely done since being a small child.  
Scott scans in the last page of the notebook and closes it, declaring that he’s backing it up in the cloud.  
“Good,” Gwen says.  
“Yeah, It would be, if anyone actually cared!” I say, running my fingers through my hair in irritation.  
All our phones buzz. A text was just sent to the group chat.  
It’s from Peter quill. He appears to have written it while in a hurry. “Help got home stepdad never texted me its not real not him.”  
We all look at each other with wide eyes. We all frantically text the group chat trying to get anything out of him.  
He manages to send one more word, “Westwoods.”  
“The woods at the Western end of town!” Gwen says.  
After that, there are no more texts from him.  
We all rush down to my truck in a blind panic.  
We’re not even sure where to look or how.  
We can’t send a police report - they already don’t believe that Misty is a threat, nor that she has the ability to mimic other people!  
The entire time there I beat my hands against the steering wheel and curse.  
I was the one who stupidly let Misty keep her super suit! I should’ve taken that shit away from her as soon as I unmasked her! 

LUCAS AN: YOU DID TAKE IT AWAY, THOUGH!? Willow, Seriously, Is this an alternate draft or something? 

WILLOW AN: I assumed that you’d just rewrite it to fit the new situation. I didn’t want to throw the stuff out just because it didn’t get used before!

LUCAS AN: Girl, we talked about this at breakfast the other day - YOU NEED TO BE PROACTIVE AS WELL! The extent I “rewrite” stuff is for basic sentence structure so it somewhat makes sense. I don’t do STRUCTURAL editing, ok? I don’t keep track of continuity or plot points or anything, that’s YOUR job as the, you know, AUTHORS.

WILLOW AN: So, you’re not going to fix any of it?

LUCAS AN: Nope. If it’s inconsistent, that’s YOUR problem. You have the account password, YOU get to fix it if you are so inclined!

WILLOW AN: FINE! Maybe I will!

We arrive at the particular woods and immediately jump out and start searching.  
It’s already starting to get dark. Thankfully our phones are all fully charged, we’ll be needing their battery life for the flashlights!  
My mind becomes an utter blur.  
It’s just minutes and minutes and then hours and hours of running and shouting and speculating and cursing Misty’s name.  
We search until the woods become impenetrably dark and even then we search.  
We search until, hours later, I get a call.  
When I answer I hear a familiar voice beg for help.  
“PETER!” I yell out loud. I crush the phone to my ear, unwilling to miss any information he could give. “Peter, where are you, we’re here in the Western Woods, that's where you said to come, right?”  
“Western Woods,” Peter mumbles. He begins to ramble incoherently while also openly weeping.  
“Peter, Peter, you need to tell us where you are, we’re here to get to you!”  
“Here,” Gwen says sharply and snatches the phone away. “Peter?” She says in a relatively even tone? She talks calmly to Peter and tries to get him to look around and tell us where he is. “Ok, ok, Peter, you say you see lights? Can you get to those lights? They’re probably us! Yes, yes, Peter, go to the lights if you can manage it.” She pauses and bounces her foot, every second without him speaking like a death march. “Peter, are you ok?” She says occasionally and he answers yes. After another minute she asks him again and he mumbles something about being tired and wanting to lay down. “God, no, Peter, don’t do that!” Gewn says, and for good reason.  
In a place like this with large wild animals roaming around he CANNOT afford to pass out!  
Gwen just rambles to him, talking as much as possible to keep him on the phone and moving, to not let him pass out.  
After a mind numbing amount of time and not seeing him anywhere near us, Peter announces he’s found the light.  
We’re all confused.  
When Gwen asks, he clarifies that it’s a street light near the forest. Miraculously, the last one before the road outside of Marvel Falls ends.  
We rush back to my truck and race down the street as fast as possible until we get to the streetlamp Peter mentioned. And there, standing beneath it, is Peter.  
I stop the truck fast enough for the tires to squeal and leave skid marks on the asphalt.  
We all jump out and rush over to Peter.  
We’re horrified when we see him.  
He’s wobbly on his feet and looks legitimately sick. His clothes are sloppy, buttons undone, the t-shirt inside out, his pants unzipped with the belt missing and both his socks gone, the shoelaces a tangled mess. He, weirdly, has gone from a five oclock shadow that he came to school with to what appears to be anywhere between three days to three weeks worth of facial hair scruff. Despite that and his hair being a ruffled mess, he’s not dirty. In fact, his hair appears to be washed with conditioner and his skin smells of a coconut body wash and is kissed with perfumes. He looks at us with eyes, dilated so huge he looks like a shark who’s smelled blood in the water. His lips are pulled back in a terrified grimace, each breath being sucked through his teeth and exhaled with a jittery sob.  
He hugs himself as we talk to him and try to comfort him. When we ask what was done to him he begins sobbing even harder, tears streaming down his face, as he wordlessly holds out his arms.  
Scott shines his phone flashlight over them and we all gasp.  
His arms are severely bruised with what appear to be hypodermic needle punctures.  
“Oh Christ!” I say too loudly, causing Peter to begin crying even harder.  
We get Peter into the back of my truck where Gwen sits with him, her arms around him.  
He rests his head on her shoulder and sobs for a few moments more until he goes limp, presumably passed out from exhaustion.  
Scott sits in the passengers side seat and taps his foot erratically the entire way to the hospital.  
I’m on the phone with Dad the whole time, explaining that Peter was assaulted and is in bad shape. I practically demand that he look into it and that we aren’t lying and to collect any forensic evidence he can get. It pisses me off that he’s only willing to do something after somebody is irreparably scarred like this!  
As I stop at the hospital entrance as Dad hangs up.  
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, MISTY!” I sob as paramedics from the hospital rush out with a stretcher and load Peter up.  
We rush alongside and try to explain as much as we know about his condition until the ER where we can’t follow anymore and are sent to a waiting room.  
Dad arrives a few minutes later with several of his deputies, presumably to be on standby and collect any evidence the hospital staff can save.  
They break away from Dad and he comes over, looking depressed.  
“Hi,” I say simply.  
“Hi,” he says.  
“So… I’m not the one in the hospital this time, right?” I say. And with that I burst into tears and have to be comforted.  
Dad crushes me in a hug and we sit there like that late into the night, waiting for the staff to give us some explanation.  
…

Sometime in the extremely early morning I am roused by someone.  
I wake with a start, snorting. “What?” I say, Immediately snapping completely awake.  
It’s Dad. I unknowingly fell asleep on his shoulder. He nods his head toward a doctor who stands in the general waiting area.  
“What is it?” I ask, jumping up and walking over to him.  
“Your friend is currently stable,” the doctor says. “We had to do a complete blood transfusion.”  
“WHAT?” We all say at once, shocked.  
“His blood was so thoroughly filled with various illegal drugs that, if we didn’t replace it immediately, he could have potentially suffered a cardiac arrest.”  
“Oh my God,” I say, pressing a hand to my mouth, panicking.  
The others hug me. Venom forms a hand under my shirt and hugs me from behind as well.  
“We found evidence of several fractures in his right leg, both wrists, several toes and fingers, and three ribs. He was beaten pretty badly. One section on his foot was so damaged the… the skin was torn and mangled. He received many severe bite marks.”  
“From an animal?” Gwen asks.  
“No, they’re human,” the doctor says. “They were strong enough to break the skin. The human mouth is a filthy thing and, as such, several of the bites were mildly infected with bacteria.”  
“Well, I suppose that’s a good thing, in a way,” Dad says. “We can get someone in here later to get measurements and photos of the bites. We can match them to dental records.”  
“Would that work?” Gwen asks.  
Dad nods. “Yeah, it’s how Ted Bundy was put away.” He turns to the doctor. “You took samples of saliva left in the bites, right?”  
The doctor nods. “The assailant tried to wash it all away but there were still a few particles IN the bite they weren’t able to reach.”  
“Thank god, that will certainly be helpful,” Dad muses.  
The doctor goes on to explain a few more things that they found that he was suffering from that I can barely pay attention to, I’m so out of it and distressed.  
“Can we see him?” Gwen asks when the doctor is through.  
He shakes his head. “No. while he’s stable now, he is in critical condition. He’s been administered with a strong sleeping agent as he was seemingly kept from sleeping - partially why he was so out of it when you found him.”  
“Is there anything we can do?” Scott asks.  
The doctor again shakes his head. “We have everything covered. The best thing you can do is go home and take care of yourselves. We’ll be in contact to let you know when he can receive visitation.”  
I don’t want to go but Dad takes me by the shoulder and tries to move me. Venom anchors my feet to the tile floor.  
“Eddie, Come on, we need to go home,”Dad says. He looks into my eyes with both sorrow and firmness.  
“Let go,” I whisper to Venom who, reluctantly, lets go of the floor and I allow myself to be steered to the parking lot where Dad’s squad car waits to take us home.  
…

Misty POV:

The old base is still in shambles from when Eddie and company stormed in and totally destroyed it. Half the walls are caved in on themselves, the rooms destroyed, all the furniture ruined. It was a nice hang when it was fully operational. So sad.  
I climb through the wreckage to a line of cabinets that have been demolished - all except for one.  
I pry the door open with a crowbar I find in the rubble and there it is, a multipurpose, highly experimental laser rifle, armed with both a kill function and a stun function. I’ll be needing both.  
I hold up the gun and cock it, listening to the sound of the pulse rifle hum, dangerously.  
I immediately rush to my car and drive back into town and make a beeline for Hank Pimm's house. I don't imagine Scott would be home, he's probably at the hospital with the others.  
I'd hoped that they wouldn't find out where I’d taken Peter, but I guess that life is a bitch.  
I get out and stalk up to the house, stone faced. I have put that stupid jovial look on my face for the final time.  
I raise the gun to the door knob and fire. It explodes into tiny metalic shards and melts. I kick the door in and enter, swiftly and efficiently. I know what I need and where it is.  
As I'd expected, Hank is, indeed, home. He rushes out after he hears the door explode. He sees me and I say nothing as I raise the gun and fire. The stun makes his body jitter and quiver before he drops to the floor. He continues to twitch for a few seconds before his eyes roll up in his head as he passes out.  
I grab him under the arms and drag him through the house to the door in the parlor. I hoist him up long enough to press his hand to the pad that opens the door to his secret lab. As soon as it opened I let him drop like a bag of cement.  
As I descend down the stairs, the tin can butler of Pimm, Ultron, looks up as I enter.  
“What?” It says, confused. “Who are you and what are you doing here -”  
I switch the gun from stun to kill and fire. It hits Ultron in the head. Sparks fly and it glitches out a second, swaying unsteady on its limbs, before crumpling to a pile.  
I run past it to the glass case on the other side of the lab. There, I see Pyro's flameproof suit, Quick Silver's shoes, and most importantly, my mimic suit.  
I've missed this thing!  
I shatter the case, the glass tinkling to the ground in a destructive symphony, and grab the suit.  
I run out of the lab just as Pimm is beginning to stir.  
“Wha - what?” He murmurs.  
I give him another stun blast on my way out the door and to my car.  
...

Eddie returns home with his Dad.  
They pull into the driveway and get out, Eddie practically in a catatonic state. Poor thing.  
I watch from the safety of the woods’ edge, dressed in my mimic suit, as they go inside.  
After a few minutes, Eddie exits the house to stand on the front porch and stare out into the woods.  
I smile. He has left himself open to an attack.  
I slip around the premise and get to the back door.  
I spot Sheriff Brock in the foyer and stun him. He goes down hard, utterly passed out.  
I run my hand over his torso, up to his face. My suit immediately morphs me into a perfect copy of him.  
I glance at the landline phone on the counter. I hit the voice-mail button and the prerecorded message plays, just him saying “leave a message and I'll call back!” It's enough of a snippet for my suit to copy his voice.  
I stick my gun in the holster Mr. Brock was wearing that my suit mimicked onto myself and grab a blanket from a couch on my way through the house to the front porch.  
I enter onto the porch and Eddie doesn't so much as look up. “Hey, Dad,” he says simply.  
“Hey son,” I say, feeling weird being in the form of this man with this voice acting as the father to the boy I'm in love with. But as long as I am near him, that's all that matters. “I brought you this.” I drape the blanket over his shoulders.  
“Oh, thanks,” Eddie mumbles. “I wasn't cold.”  
“Not cold? It's freezing,” I say, motioning around.  
“Uh huh.”  
I stand next to him realizing I don't even need to butter him up to be comfortable. He is so out of it it would take a lot to tip him off if something is wrong.  
I smalltalk to him a little, just trying to soak as much attention from him as possible.  
Suddenly, I hear the voice-mail sound off from the kitchen. It's a terrified deputy.  
“Sheriff! There's been a report! Hank Pimm was just broken into and he was assaulted by a teen girl!”  
Eddie perks up hearing that. “Wait, what?” He says.  
I act on instinct, stunning him.  
He shudders as he passes out. I pray to God that Venom also passed out or this will end very quickly for me. Thankfully, Eddie goes down and stays down.  
He thwacks his head on the porch rail as he goes down, making me shudder in morbid delight. It isn’t any more or less violent than what I plan to do later.  
I pick him up - something I can do since increased strength is something this suit has built in - and carry him down the driveway to my car just off the path like a child, a huge grin on my face.  
I just did it and got away with it! I will celebrate hard later tonight!  
…

LUCAS AN: So, this chapter is going to be a bit different. The chapter that Mark sent me is… one of the most vile things I have read from him in a hot minute. I am SUPER uncomfortable at the idea of seriously editing it and making it cannon. I’m throwing it in both because the typos are hilarious (I think he just turns spell check off for God-knows what reason), but also to show off the kind of shit I have to deal with from these two “talented writers.” It is absurd the amount of garbage they give me and honestly expect me to work with. I am taking over the rest of the chapter just to fill the gap. Call me wishy washy in my approach, but there is no way I am going “Grindhouse” the way Mark did.

Here’s exactly what he sent me:

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Ok lucsas hgere is the hapetr for you to edit! I was thnking like this could be 70s ezploitation grindhouse! I love that shit ts so gorey and cool and gross! Tell mew what you think I know you’ll make that shti amazing!1!!!

Edois POV:

I wake up as some one dumps water on my afe and I gasp asnd splutter as I look up to see whoi is is. I gasp when I see that that’s person is miusty. Misty? I mumble looking up int her face. she is grinnming like an absolute mas woman and holds an waterbottyle in oen hand and a bid olsd knife in thew other. Hello eddie she says with an evil grin that makes her lkoik like athe joker on crack. What am I doing herer misty! I demand. She judt gri s een fucxking wider. You are hetre be4causer you belong to me!! you are my slave now boy ansd I will do whatevwer I want wiutyhb you because you are min! I lobve you edsie and you don’t seem to understand that. I will own you you w9ill remain with me hewre forever and a day as long as I want you eher. How is that evwen possible>? I demand. Because this polace has time malupulating powers. Peter? Her was her for a day but it was a week for him same as iceewman. Yuou took liceman too? I demand. Yes I thought you would know that since you stole myxc fiucking notebook like the dick you are! She says. I didsnt steal it you dropped it! ou want it to get crusdhed? I shoul have let it! no mastter, misty says. Mj can get mew off the hook for anything I want. Its goodf to have friends that care ablout you. unlike yoyu apparently. She sneers at me and I blush red with ansger. You bitch! I scream. L;ets me go please! I ne4eds to be with peter he is dsick thanks to you! you think I gave a shit about poeter? she demands. I hated him. he took you away from me! trhe only good thing he difd was fuck you goods and that was pretty fucjkinmg hot! Yeah, I know sicnce you ook a video tape of us! that’s chil;d pinography! You cou;ld gpo to jail for that! I know, but nobopdy will ever know about it! she says gruinning. What are you planning on doing killing me? I demand. Yes. She says. I gasp. Of I cant have you nobody will! She says casckling. NO I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME WHY WOL:D YOU KILL SOMEWON YOU APPARENTLKY LOVE???!!! Call me selfish she says. I love you eddie and I want to have one knight with you becore i never see you again after you diew. Because you’d have killed me! I say. I now she says, grinning snoidly. I have a special serum that makes venom gpo to sleep so you cannot heal so you are completely at my mercy! You belong to me eddie and I will sdo with yor body as I wishz! Amd with that she starts her weird ass shit she wants to do with me. with thwe knife she starts to take offd my clothes cutting them rougfhly. It is sharp as hell and cuts through the fabric like buttrers. I scream as the top kniks my ski ansd that only makes hewr laught sadistically. Sage gets all of my clothes off and looks at me nakeds. She liks her lops as hse starts puttinghvher hands all over me feeling me up,. itsa creewpy and weird and I hate hgwer tougc on me. her hands are cold like a nurse but lilke an evil nurse that wants you kill you instaid of make you fewel better. . she puts her face to my neck and starts kissing me and then biting me! her teeth sink nto my skin breaking the flesh and making me bleed I scream and she butes harder b;lood gushing into her mouth like a guyser. It rushes down her chin and to the floor where it make a l;ittle puddle./ sdhe laps at it like a cuking dog savopring the taste. She toy with my pecs as he oes so ands moans. You make me sixk you fucking bietchj! I screwa ast her as she cntinuesz to go making me feewl utterly humiliated and miserable. She then gets somwthing from her purse. I realze it’s a bpue pull. She shoves t doiwn my trhroat ans in a few seconds I have a ragng boner. My whole body feels hot and I am sweating and panting. Therw we go I like that beetre! Misty says evilly. Ash she strokews my har. I am desperate for her topucx now and lick her hands like an horny dog. I just want her t touxch me and make me cum I want to fee;l my jizz jus go evewrywhere in relief. Nono no she says. Noy yet I am not ready to make you come yet! She says whwqne I voice my need. she goes and geta candle off of a table anmd lightsd it. it’sa a cheap candle with wax that meltdssa easy. She holds it over me and lets that burning wax drip to my skinm making me wcsream in agony. It so hot it not only burns but m,elts the flesh and gets down into it maing me bleed. She putds it all over m,y chest and my theirghs and my fae. Blood drips down and too the fl;oor and even then I dtill have a raginbg boner. I beg her not to droip it on my cock but she she does oit anywqay with ahuge smile on her face. I shriek n pain as it brns my cock head and gets inside the tip burning me from the inside out!!!! she dsorpps the candle and just starts slapping me and clawing at me with her nailds howling and shrieking in delight. She goes on liker this for so so long! Time passdes so slowly. She does everything. She cuts me n bites me n claws me hits me n drips more wax n satictchesa mew with needles n breaks bones n remove s finger and toes with pliars. She evben, o what I think is the third day of thsm stabs my eye out with a spoon. None of this has anethsthetic and I am in blin ding pain the whole time. ronioc since I now nly have one eye. The whole time she keeps me erect and will jerk me off after a ton of pain and beggin. She revela in the jozz squirting everywhere and will make me lap witfrom hger fingewrs and them keep going on with the torture. Oine time she takes a cinderblock and drops it on my foot. It sghatters the bone and ruptures the flest reducing all that down there to fucking hamburger to her utter delight! I ju7st want her to kill me anmd get it over with! But little does she know sthat she fucvkd up! one day she takes a knife and tries to cut my back buyt accisentaly cuts the rope that hol;ds me. I take nr time I escapeing and then leapig from the chair. She gasps as I do so, fgree. I hobbl on my broken fet and flsil with my one blind eye. O try to het anything. On her table of torture tools ids a crowbar. I grab it. she shrieks in hotror as I jump on her and start hitting her with it. I sob as I do so hitting her head again and again. the firsdt hit kills her the sexonmd ruptures her skull the third makes brain matter and blood fly. I keep gong u tl her head is in complete dham bles. I am covered in hers and my ow blood. I sob and cry and hug mysdelf cradling th3e crowbar like a toddler hold a stuffed bear. And I crawl from the bunker on my hands and knees still naked judt wanting to be anywnhere but here!!!!

LUCAS AN: And here’s MY version of events:

I wake up to a face full of water. I gasp as the freezing cold liquid hits my bare skin. It rolls down my chest and to my groin area and to the floor.  
I am immediately aware that I am both naked, in a chair, and thoroughly tied up with thick ropes.  
I’m in the same bunker that Peter had been kept in while Misty was out pretending to be him. It must’ve survived our rescue attack.  
I struggle against the restraints. I only manage to scootch the chair a little. The legs are a little wobbly and all I’d be able to do is send myself on my back and probably crack my head open. The restraints are too tight to possibly wriggle out of.  
The room is freezing cold. My skin is covered in goosebumps and my bare feet are so chilled I half wonder if I’m frostbitten. It occurs to me that the coldness shouldn’t be possible since I have Venom inside of me.  
However, I notice a feeling of emptiness. The presence that Venom always has inside of me is gone. It’s just me again, the way I was before he infected me. My mind reels as I wonder if he’s not actually inside my body anymore.  
“Venom?” I say out loud. My head was lolled back and my mouth had been forced open. My mouth and throat are extremely dry and, as such, my voice sounds like sandpaper grinding against itself. “Venom, are you there?”  
“We won’t be seeing him for a while,” A voice says.  
My eyes dart to a shadowy corner of the room. I see two glowing green eyes. The eyeholes of the mimic suit. Misty steps into the light. “Venom’s dormant, for the time being,” she says.  
She pulls off her mask. Her wavy brown hair falls down over her shoulders, framing her face, a mix of amusement, arousal and, shockingly, regret.  
“I got this off Hank Pimm when I knocked him out.” She holds up a tablet and shoves it in my face.  
It’s a blueprint for a complex formula of some kind. I quickly realize that it’s a Symbiote DNA chart. The formula is for a serum that causes Symbiotes to go dormant, the way they would during space travel via rogue asteroids to other planets.  
“A few shapeshifts later and I got a hold of a vial of this stuff.” She nods to a table on the far end of the room.  
A large vial of clear liquid sits there, glinting in the fluorescent light. There’s a fresh box of hospital grade syringes sitting next to it.  
“So, I can keep Venom at bay, and keep you humanly fragile as long as I want. And the best part? We have all the time in the world. This bunker was specially created by the top S.H.I.E.L.D technical department, it’s outfitted with time manipulating powers. I’m not entirely sure how it works on a technical level per say, but I do know that I press a button, and time freezes. An entire lifetime in this bunker is a few seconds out there and vise versa. Why do you think Ice Man talked about being gone a week in the school office?”  
“Why are you telling me all of this?” I ask.  
Misty’s smile fades somewhat. “Eddie, you know I can’t let you leave, alive, now that I have you here. You’re not like the others. They're weak and fragile, they can wait for next time. You can’t. I have to kill you, sadly. I know fully well I won’t get this chance a second time.”  
“You’d bring your victims here a second time?” I say, appalled.  
She shrugs. “If I want. I assume you know about the others from my notebook that you stole, right?”  
“I didn’t exactly steal it, but yes. And because I read it, I know why you’re doing this.”  
“Oh, really?” Misty says, scoffing. “And why am I doing this?”  
“You’re trying to get pseudo-revenge on your Uncle -”  
“Don’t you dare even MENTION that THING!” Misty snaps.  
I pause for a few seconds before continuing. “You have repressed rage towards ‘that thing.’ and you’re taking it out on others. I have to ask, is it worth it? Does it really make you feel better?”  
Misty bursts out laughing. “Seriously, Eddie, you’re trying to psychoanalyze me?”  
“No, I’m trying to reason with you,” I say. “Misty, this is insane! None of those guys deserved what you did to them! Even guys like Ice Man don’t deserve to be molested!”  
“Why do you care?” Misty demands. “You haven’t cared about anyone since you got here, nobody outside of your little in-group anyway. You’re pompous and arrogant towards EVERYONE else. Trust me, Venom making you hot and athletic may get shallow praise from the people at school is no feat. They’re bored and disconnected from any real sense of danger - we’re in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere for Gods’ sake! We all see who you really are, Eddie, a selfish sack of shit. Don’t even try to pretend you’re doing anything except buttering me up.”  
I stammer trying to come up with a rebuttal.  
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Misty cuts me off with a snap. “Look into my eyes and tell me I’m wrong and that you actually care. Do it.” She glares down at me, her eyes a stormy grey, boring into me.  
My head falls. “No. You’re right,” I mutter.  
She puts two forefingers to my chin and tilts my head back. “Good boy,” she says, smiling. “We’re making progress.”  
I yank my head back from her grasp. “If you apparently don’t even like me, why are you doing this?” I demand.  
“I did say you’re attractive, right? Trust me, physical attraction has nothing to do with ‘attraction’ in the romantic sense. Your body is like a Greek sculpture, perfectly formed, perfectly chiseled to perfection. Venom has made you something unique. And besides, photographs capture only physical beauty, what lies beneath is irrelevant.”  
She nods over to a large bookcase. It has about a dozen different binders. A dozen different binders for the twelve different men she marked red in her notebook. ‘Bobby Drake’ - Ice Man’s real name - and ‘Peter Quill’ are the last two binders on the shelf.  
“Ice Man is a horrible person, but very attractive. Wouldn’t you agree?”  
“I suppose," I say.  
“Huh, I would have expected an erection.”  
“It’s cold, I say, sarcastically.  
Misty chuckles. “Oooh, funny man, right up until the end. Cute.”  
She goes over to a table and picks up her camera. She strokes the top of it as she returns, almost as though it were a pet and not an inanimate object. “My little friend here is going to capture the only part of you that means jack shit. Your body, in its prime, at its most handsome.” She smiles at the thought before her face falls. “And once that’s done, I break it to pieces.”  
“You’re just a petty child then,” I snap. “Breaking your toys for some satisfaction of control. I did that as a kid, bash Hot Wheels cars to pieces with an old pipe in my sandbox back home. It makes you feel great - until you realize it only shows off how weak you are. That you have to break inanimate objects, or incapacitated people to feel big. You’re just pretending to be a God to try and null the feeling of powerlessness. You have to control them to reassure yourself that you’re not the one being controlled. Controlled like your Uncle did you.”  
“STOP BINGING IT BACK TO THAT MONSTER!” Misty shrieks.  
“I’m hitting a nerve, aren’t I?” I say, a smug grin on my face. “You say it doesn’t go back to him, I beg to differ. Everything goes back to him. Your hatred of men, your need to be domineering and in control of them, your paraphilias of abuse and mutilation. He fucked you up bad.”  
Misty shrieks in anger and swings the camera at my head, hands gripping the strap tightly.  
I see stars as it collides with my skull. The corner of the device breaks the skin and draws blood. And while my skull receives immediate trauma, it’s the strongest piece of bone in the human body. Stronger than the camera. The plastic casing of the camera shatters, the battery casing pops open sending double As flying, the side view snaps off, barely hanging on by a wire. The force of the camera bouncing off my skull makes her lose her grip on the strap. It goes flying and hits a far wall, shattering further.  
She just stands there and looks at it, horrified.  
“You know, you’re an open book,” I say through gritted teeth. “It doesn’t take much to press the right buttons and get you to do what I want, huh?”  
I can’t help but me smarmy, even though I’m fairly certain she just gave me a mild concussion.  
Misty shrieks. She whirls around and grabs a large knife from her table of torture instruments.  
“Come on, Misty!” I yell, grinning. “Cut me to pieces, just like you want, I relish it! Stab me in the heart, get it over and done with! I DARE you!”  
She shrieks like a banshee as she rushes at me, knife arm raised, the other hand a punch-happy fist.  
As she nears I rock myself back. The wobbly chair legs allow me to tip the chair backwards. I’m not a hundred percent sure if this will accomplish anything but I don’t really have any other options!  
To my delight, I get lucky.  
Misty’s knee collides with the end of a chair leg and I hear a sharp pop as it’s dislocated. She shrieks as that leg gives out on her. She trips over the rest of the chair and comes down next to me, hard. Her head hits the cement with a loud thwack.  
“That’s for making me hit my head on the porch rail, you bitch!” I snarl.  
The knife fell from her hand when she fell and it landed on my upper chest. It cut the shit out of me when it landed, making me bleed profusely though, thankfully, it’s only a flesh wound.  
I writhe my torso and manage to get the knife to my teeth where I spit it, with all my might, to my right hand. I get it in my fingers and, after a few seconds of finagling, get it turned around and start cutting at the ropes. It has a serrated blade so it’s able to cut through the rope fairly easily.  
I rip my arm from the rest of the bonds on that side when I hear the rope snap. I make quick work freeing my other wrist.  
Misty starts to stir. I take a fistful of her hair and slam her head down into the cement again, knocking her right back out.  
I cut myself fully loose and quickly jump up.  
I find my clothes in a pile on the floor and hastily throw them back on, my eyes never leaving Misty.  
I grab Peter’s binder from the shelf and retrieve and pocket the SD card from the shattered camera. Hopefully she didn’t clear it off beforehand.  
I grab Misty and throw her over my shoulder. My knees buckle a little. I’m not used to Venom not helping with heavy lifting.  
Outside I see Misty’s car. I fumble with her pockets and pull out her keys. I throw her in the backseat and floor it to get back to town - more specifically the Sheriff’s office - as fast as humanly possible.

LUCAS AN: That’s MY version of events. I’m making it cannon, take it or leave it. Not to be salty or anything, but I wrote all that in, like, a half hour. Writing isn’t that hard.

WILLOW AN: Wow… that’s… that’s pretty good. I’m impressed, I’ll admit it. Is your ego satisfied? 

LUCAS AN: Very.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Lucasd byoure just a fukking preppy dooshbag diot stupid motherficking allsoke COCKSOCKET!!!1!!!!! Yiu gotta edit my stuff my dis ei wourled jard on that sgit just causer you dont like it doewnat mean its not good or whatever! Fuck you dude srriouslt!!!!!!1!!!1!!

LUCAS AN: You’re more word-salady than usual. Did da big bad step bwother not edwit yow littew stowy? Poor baby! : (


	20. Peter's Dream [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter dreams about his past after landing in the hospital from his kidnapping by Misty.

LUCAS AN: So, the stuff Willow gave me is kind of weird. The first half is all in third person vs first person for some reason. I am NOT bothering to change all of that, if that’s an unforgivable crime, flame Willow in the comments, not me.

Peter’s POV:

From what Peter has seen of Washington so far, he hates it. ever since his family has crossed over into this part of the country it’s been nothing but skies varying from white to grey, drizzly weather, and fog. It’s been the worst experience of his life so far.  
His family used to live in Michigan. This is similar to, but still very different from, the mitten shaped state he used to call home. At least there were variations to what the days looked like there.  
The sting of moving is made even worse since Peter's father died mere months before. He's far from getting over it.  
maybe it’s because she had to work long shifts every hour of every day to keep the family afloat, maybe she just had less compassion for the man, but Peter's mother got over the ordeal sooner than he did. A bit too soon for his taste.  
She got over it enough to start seeing a new man. And marry that new man. And move to some new shithole where the family can still be broken as fuck, just in a new rural setting.  
They’re off to start working at some local fish processing factory there. the one job they can get there as the place, Prescott cove, is a fishing town - the only thing the place is possibly good for.  
Peter's new stepfather, David, AKA, Step-Douche, says that some rich family set up shop in the town and has been revitalizing it.  
Peter doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything anymore.  
His Dad was the one thing in his life that wasn’t awful and the only person who could keep his self-destructive mother in check. After he went, she stopped taking her meds for good and is now just like she was when they started out. nutty as a fruitcake and dysfunctional to the point of endangering her own children more than she does protect them.  
The past few months Peter has dipped into a funk. He’s always been moody and a little unstable, probably something inherited from his mother, who has a chemical imbalance in her brain, but now he feels even worse. Lower than he has ever been before. and it shows no sign of letting up any time soon.  
Peter sits in the back of the beat up pickup truck they’re driving in.  
literally everything they own is able to fit in an oversized trailer hooked up to the back. Combined with Step-Douche's stiff in their new “home,” they might actually have enough stuff to get by for once.  
Peter has his earbuds in listening to this year’s, 2012’s, top hits. He usually listens to moody indie bands but can’t bear it recently. He needs some kind of upbeat joy right now. the surroundings are sucking it all away at an alarming rate.  
The atmosphere has everyone in a bad mood, not just Shayne. His younger sister, Riley, is sitting next to him watching a DVD on the portable player strapped to the passenger’s side seat. Something stupid and girly. She doesn’t look too interested though. She’s restless in her seat. Peter's Mother is even more flaky than usual and complaining about every little thing around them. Step-Douche looks like he is at his breaking point and trying hard not to yell. Maybe that’s just because they are in a tight confined space.  
Peter knows full well Step-Douche knows how to yell. The first day in fact he found that out. Step-Douche walked in on Peter watching a chick flick with Riley one night and blatantly called him a fag. That’s been his general opinion of Shayne. Fag. That’s what he calls him whenever his mother isn’t around, for now. At this point she is so undermedicated Step-Douche could beat Peter to death with a sledge hammer and she’d still be more hung up on how she chipped a nail and slightly burnt her toast three mornings ago.  
They’re traveling down a road that seems to be going on and on without end. Will it ever stop, or is it like the lines they discussed in geometry class, just going on forever in one direction for all eternity? The trees growing on the sides of the road make it feel like they’re driving through a tunnel. the trees have grown out over it, branches intertwining. The brush is pressed so close to the road it almost feels claustrophobic. He almost feels glad to see the chunks of papery sky when the trees part enough to see it. almost.  
Finally, they reach the end of the endless road and turn off onto a new road bordered on both sides by long abandoned farmland. They see a sign that indicates civilization is near. Just a mile ahead. Yay… Peter wants to die.  
“We’re almost there, right sweetie?” Peter's mother asks.  
“Yeah, Molly, we’re almost there.”  
“Thank god,” Peter mutters from the backseat.  
“What was that?” Step-Douche demands.  
“Ugh, just wondering if there’s a place to eat here? I’ve eaten so many bags of potato chips I’m half inclined to eat the wrappers; they’d probably taste better.”  
“Ungrateful shit,” Step-Douche mutters. “there’s a place in town. Cheap, but decent.”  
Step-Douche's standards for “decent” are very low.  
They pull into the parking lot of a restaurant in town that looks like it hasn’t changed a bit since the fifties. Stilted architecture, the wild colors, the chrome, everything. Wonder if we’ll get mauled by some radioactive monster like in the B movies of that era, Peter thinks to himself.  
“it’s a good place,” Step-Douche insists. “Cheap, which is good for us. Don’t have much money to play around with.”  
The inside of the place matches the outside, with old school booths, checkered floors and chrome on every surface. The only differences seem to be the electronic cash registers and the modern clothes of the customers.  
A waitress seats them. Judging by the sour attitude and the way she blows bubblegum, letting it pop loudly as we order, she’s not particularly fond of her job.  
Again, Step-Douche's got low standards.  
“Is this a nice place?” Riley asks. “This town?”  
“Of course, it is, sweetheart,” Peter's Mother says, “Daddy lives here. it’s going to be great here.”  
Riley gives Step-Douche a look that sours his face even more. She doesn’t like him any more than Peter does. The two siblings usually hate each other, quite literally, but at least have common ground on something now.  
The family receives their meals and happily chows down. Some people, most likely the locals, stare with distaste.  
What’s up with these yuppies? Peter thought this place was a shit show. These people all look rich, or at least upper middle class.  
He and his family stick out like a sore thumb, what with their worn, yet practical, clothes and their camo hunting jackets and the sweatpants that they always wear.  
Peter has seen these kinds of creeps before. they always think his family’s white trash – well, they kind of are – but they’re trying not to be. they genuinely work, just not enough to be well off by any stretch. But, the yuppies usually learn really quick that Peter doesn’t take shit from people. There have been many fights, many won by him. in his situation, you got to know how to fight.  
Ironically, while the better-offs glare at Peter and Riley like they’re delinquents, they completely ignore other kids of the rich status being loud, rude and vulgar, off in their corner of the restaurant, while Peter's family is polite and quiet. It’s amazing what some people are willing to overlook simply to cast judgement.  
The bubblegum blowing waitress gets done intentionally taking forever to do her job and saunters over to refill our water glasses, long since having been emptied.  
“Hey, is there any work around here?” Peter's mother asks.  
“Why you wanna know?” the waitress asks.  
“Looking for something for my son, he needs something to keep him busy. And make a little cash, you know.”  
“Hugh,” the waitress mutters with disinterest. “Haven’t seen these jokers with you before, David,” she says. “You’re moving them here?” she asks, checking her nails.  
“Yeah, new family, new life,” Step-Douche says.  
“You don’t teach old dogs new tricks,” she says bluntly. “All you do is get more chewed furniture and an ‘I told ya so.’”  
“Thanks, you’re always so much of a help,” Step-Douche says, with just as much acid.  
These two definitely fucked at some point, Peter thinks. They seem to know each other WAY too much.  
The waitress sighs and considers. “Well, there is an opening at the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza down on fifth. Don’t know what it pays, but it’s really the only other thing out there.”

LUCAS AN: Bitch WHAT? FNAF exists in this universe? WHY? WHY DOES FNAF EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE? What even is this, lol!

“I guess we’ll check it out then,” Peter's mother says.  
“The place is weird though. A few kids were murdered there by some whack job pedo. They say the place is haunted now, messes with your head and whatever.”  
Riley shudders and the waitress grins. A sadist, done with this place, morbid as fuck. Peter may have his first crush who’s actually… like… a woman.  
“Um, well, thanks for that,” Step-Douche says awkwardly. Yep, they totally fucked.  
“Yeah, Sure. here’s your check, have a good day, or whatever,” she says before disappearing behind the counter to gossip with the cook.  
“So, I’m going to be working in a creepy kids entertainment complex, huh?” Peter asks.  
“If they’ll hire you. your mother’s right, it’ll be good for you. get you out of the house.”  
“I bet you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” Peter challenges, dead serious.  
“Yes, I think I would,” Step-Douche replies bluntly.  
Peter waits for his mother to interject. She doesn’t. fucking called it! He thinks, bitterly.  
“What’s Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza?” Riley asks.   
“Not sure,” Step-Douche says. “I guess we’ll have to see.”   
“I think I remember seeing one of those back in Michigan,” Peter’s Mom says. “We never stopped in because it just looked like an expensive little kid’s theme park.”   
“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” Riley says. “That place was creepy! There was some guy in a fursuit out front greeting people!” She shudders.  
“Aw, what’s the matter? Is somebody afraid of robots?” Peter teases.  
“Yeah!” Riley says, negatively elated. “At our old school, there was some fundraiser price to go to Disneyland as the grand prize, but I have a heart attack if I went there!”  
Peter chuckles.  
His mother shoots him a dirty look. “Well, even if you didn’t want to go, we couldn’t possibly have afforded it. I’ll tell you what, though, maybe for your birthday next year we can visit an amusement park somewhere.”  
“With no mascoty roboty things?” Riley asks.  
“With no mascots or robots,” Peter’s Mom promises.  
“And we can go on a roller coaster?”   
“If you want to,” Peter’s Mom says with a smile.   
Riley, pleased with this, plays with the little girly toys she stores in her coat pocket with a bit more vigor than before.   
They finish up, and reluctantly get back in the truck.   
They drive around until we find fifth street and pull into the parking lot.   
“This is the place?” Peter’s Mom asks.   
“It says ‘Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza’ on the sign,” Step-Douche says, rolling his eyes.   
Riley looks like she’s ready to gnaw the leather off the seat in front of her.   
Below the neon sign is a poster with a goofy looking bear on it, like the mascot on a cereal box, inviting them inside.   
“This is one of those arcades, isn’t it?” Peter’s Mom says. “I thought those went out of business a long time ago. I guess they’re making a comeback.”   
The truck gets quiet until they disembark and go inside.   
The inside of the place smells of fast food and of dozens of kids running around from game to game, collecting tokens before moving on to the next one.   
“No sign of animatronics,” Peter Says.   
Riley still still doesn’t look too sure.   
They wind their way around hyper children and go up to the front desk.   
“Tickets for six?” The woman behind the counter asks.   
“Actually, we’re here about the job offers here,” Peter’s Mom says. “We heard you had a couple openings.”   
The guy looks surprised. “Oh, sure, the manager’s in back, I’ll take you to her.”

LUCAS AN: Ok, this is the end of the third person chunk, thank god.

We never get to the manager’s office however. As I step forward I am hit with a sudden bout of dizziness. The whole of my surroundings shift. The room warps and melts away into a flurry of colors. The floor falls out from under me and, suddenly, I find myself in a completely new place.  
I’m sitting in an airport lobby with earbuds in, barely hearing the music blasting into my eardrums. Rain pours down outside as shown by wide glass walls. I look around and see Riley. She sits lazily, on her phone texting. I somehow instinctively know she’s talking to her friends back in Marvel Falls.  
It occurs to me then that I’m dreaming. Fuzzy memories of being in the hospital, IV drips, tubes, and blood being pumped from and into me, surface. Am I in a coma or something? However, those thoughts and questions fade. My consciousness starts to mirror that of my memory of this incident that took place several years ago. I go completely into character, forgetting that I’m dreaming just as soon as I became aware.   
As I look at that freezing cold sleet and snow, I guess we have both said our goodbyes to the sun.   
Even here in the airport it is cold. I sit in the clothes we bought and shiver. Whoever designed these has absolutely no idea what cold weather even looks like.   
Soon, we are joined. Our birth father, Ego, shows up.   
He looks just the same as he did last time we saw him. I swear the man never ages. He is a tall guy with a fair amount of muscle mass. He always appears to be in his fifties, what with his shaggy grey hair and beard, craggy face, and steely grey eyes. He can’t be any older than forty though. He has a face that cannot seem to decide between a smile or a frown.   
He does smile as he walks up to us and it seems genuine. We know from personal experience that he is an incredibly lonely man.  
“BePeterlla, Riley, welcome to Alaska!” He says.  
“Hi, Ego - er - Dad,” Riley says, quickly correcting herself.  
We both give Ego a hug. For a lean guy he can give the most crushing hugs.   
We get into his fairly nice truck and immediately crank up the heat to full blast before he takes off, driving us to his place.  
Ego has recently gotten in contact with Mom. he, out of the blue, wanted to know us better. He wanted to be a bigger part in our lives since he and Mom split. She, seeing an opportunity to dump us off on someone else, Immediately had us pack our bags and bought us plane tickets to go live with him.  
I sit in the front passenger’s seat and look back to see Riley in the backseat via the rearview mirror. She sitting hugging herself, looking glum and annoyed to be here. I can’t blame her. Why does Ego have to live in Alaska? Why not California or something?  
“I bought a truck for the both of you,” Ego says after a long silence.   
We both perk up.  
“Really?” I ask.   
“Yeah,” he says. “You two will have to share it, I'm afraid. But, you both go to the same school anyway.”   
“That’s fine,” I say. “Riley and I have to share the one car with mom, so that shouldn’t be an issue. Besides, where would we go anyway?”   
We sit in excitement thinking what kind of vehicle we got… And are shocked when we pull up to the house and see it.   
In the driveway next to Ego’s old car he bought with Mom over a decade ago is the oldest looking truck I have ever seen in my life. The thing is built like a tank, a rhinoceros of the car world. It may have been a shiny red one but the paint has since lost the shine and been stained orange with rust.  
I’m speechless, but Beau speaks for me. “Wow!” He says with excitement I was not expecting. “That thing is awesome!”   
“It has survived several crashes,” Charlie says.   
I can tell. It has several dents in the front fender and the hood. I’m not surprised it survived a crash or two, you could run that mofo into a solid brick wall and probably barely scratch the paint.   
“It has a lot of personality,” Riley continues.   
Ego flashes red, embarrassed. His out of control blushing, something Riley and I both inherited from him. “I hope you and Bella enjoy it, Beau.

LUCAS AN: W.I.L.L.O.W, F.I.N.D & R.E.P.L.A.C.E I.S Y.O.U.R F.R.I.E.N.D!!!

Ego lets us go to our rooms upstairs. It is really just one room that has a divider put up, painted with bright colors. Animal shaped sponges were used to make an entire zoo across the custom made thing. I remember painting that with Mom and Charli and Beau as children. It was one of the few times I can remember seeing Mom & him get along.   
It brings back fuzzy memories of a time when this place was actually inviting and enjoyable. Before we moved to Arizona and I discovered what heat and the sun were and dreaded having to come back here every summer. Of course, Riley and I are going to be staying fat longer than a summer.  
Ego lets us know that he’ll cook supper to let us relax for the night. Fried eggs and toast for dinner, literally the only thing that dad knows how to cook. But, I am too tired and jet-lagged to care.   
I flop down on my childhood bed. It’s now slightly too small, so my feet stick off a little.  
“Dad kept everything the same for us,” Riley says.   
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m a little surprised.”  
“Hey, a computer!” Riley says looking at the ancient thing on the table. “Wonder how he paid for this thing.” She opens it. “It’s a Windows 7 system.”   
“Ugh,” I mutter.   
Riley looks through the closets. “Hey! She says. She steps back to show me what is in the closet. It is filled with old clothes of Ego’s. She pulls out a note. “Oh, he left these up here for us. Awesome! These clothes we bought aren’t all that great.”   
I look at Riley with a critical look. “You are trying way too hard,” I say. “Are you looking for anything to be happy about here?”  
Riley sighs. “Yeah. I guess so.”   
I nod. “I get it,” I say. I flop down on my bed and state at the ceiling.   
“I am just happy for Ego, you know?” Riley says.   
“Me too,” I say. “I don’t like it here, but I do feel bad for him. It’s been so long…”  
“Who knows, maybe it will be better than we think,” Riley says.   
Good old Riley. She looks for the good in anything. She manages to find the silver lining in anything. I am not so blessed, but wish I was.   
I am the downer of the family who always brings up the painful points, nice and blunt. People say I’m able to make adopting a puppy seem depressing. I guess they are right, but I cannot help it. After living with my Mom for sixteen years I think that anyone would be like me. The son of a crazy woman and a half sober Sheriff from Alaska.  
It suddenly occurs to me that I’ve forgotten how nice Riley used to be. It’s only in the past couple years - since this whole event, really - that she became such a bitch. I wish she hadn’t; we used to be close.  
Later on, Riley and I go down to dinner. Classic eggs and toast, called it.   
Charlie has set out two cans of coke for Beau and I. He has a beer.   
Ego notices me looking at the beer as I sit down. “I am trying moderation,” he says.   
I nod. “I know how that works.”   
Ego sighs. “You know I am not a full blown alcoholic right?”   
I nod.   
“And that I’m working on keeping myself from becoming one?”   
I nod.   
He seems to be on the same level he was the last time we saw him last year when he came to vacation with us for several weeks in Michigan. Always on the brink of having issues but pulling himself back before slipping back and having to pull himself back.   
We eat in silence. It is a little awkward but I really don’t feel like talking.   
O wish o were as confident as Riley is.   
Her optimism is defeated, however, as we lay in our beds trying to sleep.   
The rain has come down thicker and pelts at the roof like a creature trying to claw its way in. After the stone silence of Michigan nights I might as well be listening to heavy metal. Actually, that is what I end up doing.   
I give up and turn on my light.   
The warrior keeps Riley in the dark but she gets up too. She fires up the ancient computer and pops one of her CDs in and plays it soft enough not to wake Ego but loud enough to be heard over the rain. It is some indie band.   
Riley is into that kind of thing. She says she likes to give struggling artists a chance. Once I bluntly told her just to write a pity check and not buy the album, it would do us both a favor. Now she plays them just to annoy me.   
“Just until the rain passes,” she says as some chick starts singing melodramatically about a breakup.   
I pop in my ear buds and drown her out with hard rock.   
The plan backfires as the rain doesn’t let up. Ever.   
It continues until the alarm goes off at six and continues as we eat a sad breakfast of soggy cereal and stale muffins.  
“If you want, I can show you two around town,” Ego offers. “There's a lot to see, it’s really grown in the last couple years.”   
I shrug. “Sure.”   
Riley agrees as well.  
We don our coats and exit the house.   
There's heavy wind blowing misty air in my face making my hair flutter around me. it’s freezing.   
“It’s awful out here,” Riley says as Ego locks the door behind us.   
Ego looks around and shrugs. “It’s a nice day out actually.”   
“This is a nice day?” I say, incredulous.   
We walk down the street, our shoes slapping the moist pavement.   
“So…” Ego says, not knowing what to say. “What grade are you guys in?”   
“I’m in the middle of my sophomore year,” I say.   
“Freshman year,” Riley says. “Sadly.”  
“Well, you’re both well on your way, good for you,” Ego says.   
“Yeah, it’ll be good to graduate, escape the stupidity and cliques,” I say.   
“Same,” Riley agrees.  
“You don’t sound like one who enjoys it,” Ego says.   
“No, not really,” I say. “Sometimes I feel like I’m too smart for the others my age, I don’t really fit in anywhere. I’ve only got like, two friends and they’re both nerds, like me.”   
“I’m shocked, I figured you’d be a more popular person, by first glance anyways.”   
“We’re poor, the area is rich,” I say. “You do the math.”  
“Oh. Sucks.”  
“Good and hard,” I say, sighing.  
“I’m kind of popular,” Riley says. “Then again, I’ve been told it’s because I have ‘a rocking body.’ Most people either think I’m stuck up or a bimbo.”   
“You mean you’re neither of those things?” I say, jokingly. “News to me.”  
Riley grins and flips me off with both fingers.  
Ego grins as well.  
“Well, you both sound awfully adult for your age,” Ego says.   
“Yeah, we get that a lot too,” Riley says. “We have to be like that, especially with Mom…”   
“If you want to talk about politics, social issues, history, pretty much anything with substance, I’m there,” I say. “But gossip, trash talk and current fifteen minutes of fame? Not so much.”   
Ego laughs. “I’ll have to be sure not to bring any of those up, not that I’m particularly interested in that either.”   
“So, what are you interested in then?” I ask.   
Ego shrugs. “Video games, paperback novels, soap operas, football and baseball.”   
“Ok, you had me at video games and sports, but paperbacks?”   
“Eh,” he says, shrugging exaggeratedly, motioning around. “The trees gave up their lives for a good purpose. I mean, who needs oxygen anyway? Literary stimulation, much more important.”   
We both chuckle.   
“And soap operas? Really?”   
“Hey, Insatiable is a beautiful show. I’m on the edge of my seat as to whether Patty and Bob will get together or if she ditches him for his hot jock son.”  
“Oh, god,” I forgot that was a subplot,” I mutter, rubbing my temples.  
Riley laughs. “You got me there, I’m team Bob and Bernard all the way. That scene where Bernard took Bob’s tupet and made out with him in the bathroom was adorable!”   
We are in the center of town now, fenced trees whipping in the breeze, cyclists fighting not to be knocked over and pedestrians holding faces under coats. A lot of people wave to Ego as we walk through town.   
“That’s the local grocery store,” Ego says pointing to ‘Doug’s market.’ “Great prices, good food, can’t beat it.”   
The building’s paint is faded and some of the neon lights - switched on due to the dark weather - are burned out.   
“Looks awfully worn,” I say.   
“Yeah, well, it’s one of the older buildings. The Princes wanted to update it with a name brand place, but the town practically revolted.”   
“The Princes? Who are they?” Riley asks.   
“They're the town’s head honchos, very rich,” Ego says.   
“Mr. Prince is head of the new nuclear power plant that was built a few years back and Mrs. Prince is the mayor. They’re richer than kings, no pun intended. They basically built this place from the ground up.” 

LUCAS AN: Don’t worry, readers, “The Prince Family” will never be mentioned ever again! We LOVE dropped subplots in this house! Kill Me.

“You seem to know a lot about this place’s history,” I say.  
“I grew up here, lived here my whole life,” Ego says. “It used to be a dinky little hick town with an agricultural based economy. Wasn’t until the Princes came in that the town actually became anything.”   
Ego tours us through the whole town which is bigger than I thought it was. Lots of houses, lots of businesses.   
“This place is really growing, a lot of these places look practically new,” Riley muses.   
“Yeah, a lot of old buildings put up almost seventy years ago are being knocked down and replaced, not that they were worth anything anyways. Almost half the town isn’t anymore than a few years old. Even the elementary, middle and high schools are new, or at least renovated, Ego explains.”   
We stop for lunch at this coffee shop/diner combo called the Sugar Spoon. It smells delicious inside.   
We order and I get a large everything.   
“Awfully gluttonous of you,” Ego says jokingly.   
“To hell with weight watching, something tells me the possibility of thunder thighs will be worth it.”   
It is. We take a booth and I practically die and go to heaven. I must sound like a cow achieving orgasm but I don’t care, this is delicious.   
“Best food in the area,” Ego says.   
It's busy here today, not surprising seeing as it’s a Saturday. Lots of teens, lots of parents with kids.   
“Hello, Chief,” says a black haired woman with a mysterious smile.   
“G’ Afternoon Erica,” Ego says.   
“Mind if I take a seat?” Erica asks. Without waiting for an answer she shoves me out of the way, and faces Ego, looking dreamy.   
“So... what’s up?” Ego asks.   
“Oh, just taking the kids out, my daughter has soccer practice, Bart promised her a meal here, horribly overpriced though, for the food quality anyways, health wise.”   
“Tastes good though,” Ego says.  
“Oh, I wasn’t saying that,” she says. “Anyway, it’s good to see you here, we never get to talk!”   
“Oh please Erica, I told you, call me Ego, I’m not one for titles outside of work.”   
Erica giggles in a way that irritates me.   
My fries are sitting by her elbow.   
“Excuse me,” I say. “I was just finishing up my fries -”   
Erica slides them over to me without even looking.   
“Erica, these are my kids, Peter and Riley. They’re going to be staying with me for the next few months.”   
Erica now acknowledges my existence and pretends to care, though I can tell she’s really only interested in Ego. “Oh, pleased to meet you both!”   
She turns back to Ego and the two chatter, and Ego seems just as uncomfortable as I am, though he manages to sound cool and confident.   
Finally, mercifully, Erica’s kids - whom she left unsupervised - start a food fight and she has to run off and apologize to some couple for a supersize soda to the head.   
Ego sighs and slumps in his both.   
“Boy, she’s got it in for you,” Riley says.   
“Yeah, she’s into me, figured that out a long time ago.”   
“Not that interested?” I ask.   
“Were you?”  
”About as interested as some sort of nasty parasite.”   
“Erica to a tee, it’s no wonder she’s divorced.”   
As we finish eating I find Erica isn’t the only one who's got an eye on Ego. A couple other women stop and chat with him, though they’re a lot nicer and even acknowledge our existence.   
“You’re a popular guy,” I say.   
“Yeah, the women love me, what can I say?”   
“You date much?” Riley asks.   
He shrugs. “A little. Still single though.”   
“I’m surprised, you seem like a great guy.”   
“I try,” he says.   
“That’s surprising, since Mom hates your guts now,” Riley says.  
Ego’s smile fades a little. “Ah, yes, your mother…” He bites his lip, clearly remembering both the better and the worse times with her.  
“Just promise me one thing,” I say, geting serious. “Don’t turn out to be an asshole. Please. I’ve got enough of those in my life, don’t need another.”   
Ego opens his mouth as though to ask why I’d say this, but changes his mind and says with a calm smile, “I’d never do anything to hurt either of you. I know you’ve been through a lot, I just want to be a friend and get you through it. I promise.”   
“Thank you,” I say.   
Ego seems like a nice guy, but after living with Mom and Step-Douche, the people at school, doesn’t really mean all that much. Time will tell.   
We walk around the town more. My watch says it’s past noon, but you’d never tell that by looking around outside, never changed.   
As we circle the town’s sidewalks, going back towards Ego’s house, the sidewalk gets more cracked and under kempt. There’s a lot of trash, spray painted graffiti, more run down houses.   
“What’s this?” I ask. “Seems a lot less, you know, what we saw before.”   
“This is the East Side of town,” Ego says. “Oldest part of town; not much here but the more… undesirable crowd.”   
“The slum crowd?”   
“Not how I’d put it, but yes. Best stay out of there, there are a lot of people you’d best not meet.” 

LUCAS AN: Yay! More buildup to NOTHING! Good job willow, future bestselling author material here!

WILLOW AN: Suck my non-existent penis.

After a while, the East Side blends back in with the rest of the town, and I spot in a tucked up, half closed down strip mall, a little thrift store.  
“Ooh, thrift store!” I say.   
“Oh yeah. I forgot that’s there,” Ego says. “Not a lot of business in there.”   
“Can we go check it out?” I ask. “I love thrift stores, never know when you can find a diamond in the rough.”   
Ego shrugs. “I guess so, if you want.”   
We walk into the dimly lit little shop. It’s warm and musty. Brown light filters in through old windows that really need replacing.   
We find a guy behind the checkout counter, and it must’ve been a really freaking slow day.   
“Hey man, what the hell?” Ego says.   
The guy, slumped back in an office chair jerks awake, tosses away the girly magazine and zips his fly, red as a tomato. He grins sheepishly. “Sorry, Sheriff Ego, sir,” The guy says, gulping.   
“I think I’d like you to report to my office on Monday. I'm here with my children, and we really didn’t need to see your plumbing,” Ego says, angrily.   
The guy becomes small in his chair.   
“And besides, it’s not very impressive, you'll get a lot of laughs, and not in a good way.”   
The guy deflates even more.   
I leave the two to discuss plumbing sizes and mill around.   
Not much. Mostly stuff you’d expect an eighty year old woman to put in her house, worn out clothes, and old toys that look like they’d rather eat you than be played with.   
I thumb through cheesy romance novels with long haired half nude men cradling women who look like they’re ready to slip into a coma in their lovers arms.   
“Damn, these people must be part of a cloning experiment,” I mutter. “It’s the same two people on all these things, who must reproduce by budding.”   
“Maybe it is a connected literary universe or something,” Riley says, looking over my shoulder.   
As I go to pull a hardcover nonfiction off to the left, the shelf under it gives out, spilling books all over the floor.   
I yell and jump out of the way. Dust plumes up, making me sneeze. I stack the books on the floor by the bookshelf, and go after one that went under a table.   
As I’m down there I see, huddled with a ton of other junk, something of interest.   
I pull out a sword and a mantle. It’s filthy from being under there for so long. Leather dyed dark blue makes up the scabbard. The hilt is made with the same leather, and detailed with steel patterns that look oriental in design. I’m pretty sure this is a katana. I draw the blade and it makes a “whining” noise as I draw it. it’s dull, the metal is misty with slight corrosion, it’s filthy and old.   
“WOAH!” Riley says, enamored. “That’s cool! Can I have it? Please!?”  
“Hello no,” I say, grinning. “This is mine!”  
I talk it up to the front and plop it down on the counter in front of the guy who is still being chewed out by Ego.   
“How much?” I ask.   
“Um, don’t remember,” The guy says. “Is there a sticker somewhere?”   
I peel the gooey orange sticker with an undesirable amount printed on it off the side and flick it away as a wad. “Nope, none that I can see,” I lie.   
“Well a beauty like this he says, ignoring the condition of it, is worth…” he looks at Ego and back at me. “You know what, I’m going to sell this place, screw it! thank god for my office job! Take this in good health, it won’t be thrown out with the rest of this!   
He rushes the three of us out the door quickly and puts up a hastily scribbled closed sign on the door before locking it.   
“Scum,” Ego mutters.   
“Got a cool sword though,” I say.   
“Lucky,” Riley mutters.  
Ego looks at the katana critically. “Really? What are you going to do with it?”   
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I can figure out how to restore it and learn to sword fight. I need a real hobby besides watching YouTube and studying unnecessarily.”   
Ego shrugs. “Whatever makes you happy I suppose. Yeah, happy. I need all of that I can get.”  
...

The next day, Riley and I run to our truck. We are drenched in the few seconds it takes us to do so.   
“So, you like this thing?” I ask.   
“I guess,” Riley says.   
I turn the ignition and it doesn’t start. I stare at it before slamming my head into the steering wheel. “I am too fucking tired for this!” I groan. I find I have to jiggle it and press my foot in just the right way and pray to every celestial being I can think of before the thing starts with a roar like a charging rhino.   
I watch as Riley watches and takes a mental note on how to start it, as do I.  
After our first day at school we head out, jumping into our truck which we decided to call “big red” despite the fact it barely has any red paint left on it. The engine roars to life and we leave the parking lot with the sound of heavy machinery.  
“So, you really like this thing?” Bella demands as we drive.

LUCAS AN: What… What even IS THIS? I expected a LITTLE better from you, Willow.

WILLOW AN: I wrote it on my phone in a moving vehicle, ok? It’s not THAT bad!

LUCAS AN: I’ve written rough drafts in five minutes better than this garbage.

WILLOW AN: Well, we can’t all be as “tAlLeNtEd” as you.

LUCAS AN: Too bad, the world would be better off! : p

“I guess,” I say. “As much as I can like cars.”   
BelRileyla nods.   
“I guess it has… style. Maybe not one I like, but something like that.”   
We drive to the local grocery store to pick up anything and everything. Ego gave us a budget to work with, surprisingly substantial. He never buys anything else, so it works out.   
The store is a tiny little place and is somewhat busy, everyone trying to get the week's groceries out of the way.   
We pick up a ton of food, all of it local offbrans stuff. Good thing we are all too used to it with our Mom who stupidly spends any money we get saved up. The fart is full by the time we check out.   
As we do, I notice something's off to the left. I motion to Riley.   
At the butcher section of the store I notice two people. It is Alice and Jasper, two people we met in school. They are chatting with the butcher who laughs. Apparently they know him.   
Both look slightly uncomfortable. I notice that the both of them are clenching and unclenching their hands. Alice has a stress ball in one hand and I have never seen anyone squish one as hard as she does. Powerful grip. 

LUCAS AN: Should I just add “Twilight” to the tags? Keep your fanfics straight, girl!

WILLOW AN: Come on, they can be made to work with this story! I don’t want them to go to waste!

LUCAS AN: And waste they are!

As we continue to watch, the butcher rounds the corner with two huge clear barrels of… my legs go weak and I can feel my stomach clench so tight I pray that I don’t puke right here in the supermarket. I look away as quickly as possible.   
The cashier looks concerned As Riley and I are both green as ivy.   
I sneak a glance sideways just long enough to see Jasper and Alice walk out. They look over at us and look at each other with concern on their faces. This looks so ducking suspicious. 

LUCAS AN: Mmmmm… that is some delicious spell check!

“Are you alright?” The woman at the counter asks.   
I teeter my hand and try to focus on the candy rack and the bright colors - all the ones not red.   
“We are not the best with… blood. It’s like a phobia I guess,” Riley says holding her stomach.   
“Oh,” the cashier says looking confused. “Well you are going to have to get used to that. The Cullens have a deal with John over there to collect blood from his meat business.”   
“WHY?” I demand.   
“I just work here,” the woman says flatly. “Are you going to pay for that or not?”   
Riley always recovers a little more than I do.   
“How is it we are so different, yet we have shit like this in common?” I mumble.   
“Dunno,” Riley says. She sighs. “Didn’t need that.”   
…

After a quick nap at home we both feel better.   
We have dinner almost on the table by the time that Ego gets home.   
“Ooh, what is that heavenly scent?” He asks.   
“Meatloaf,” I says.   
Ego looks through the bags we bought.   
I look away.   
We had a bug put in our ear, one we ignored.   
He looks up confused. “No beer?”  
Riley just gives him a hard look. She has the balls to do that kind of thing. She is always so much stronger than I am.   
Ego just sighs and nods and goes into the next room to watch a little TV before dinner.   
“Good job covering the beer,” I whisper.   
Riley nods. She doesn’t say anything.   
After dinner Riley and I go upstairs and prepaid for bed.   
I rearrange my stuff that has gotten bumped around over the course of the trip.   
Riley watches me and gets a little annoyed. “Why the heck do you have to be so neat?” She asks.   
My OCD drives her crazy as well as everyone else really. Ego always complained because I would rearrange the kitchen when he wasn’t looking and was then unable to find anything - not that he was able to find it before either.   
We try to sleep, but the rain is pattering against the roof of this old house so hard that it is impossible to even think.   
We fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion, but I can’t help but feel as I drift off that I'm being watched somehow…  
Suddenly the dream shifts again. I feel myself falling for a moment until I find myself planted in a new memory.  
Ego drags us outside in the middle of the night. I have absolutely no idea why.   
It’s Alaska, so it’s freezing cold. The three of us are bundled up in parkas. Riley and I shiver our asses off, but Ego seems strangely unaffected by the cold. He’s always been super unphased by weather - hot or cold - for some reason.   
“So, why are we out here?” I ask, teeth chattering.   
Ego shrugs. “Just to look up at the stars.”   
It’s a full moon out tonight and a cloudless sky. The moonlight bouncing off the snow makes it bright as daylight. He didn’t even bother to turn on the porch light. The sky is filled with more stars than I could possibly count. The position the earth is in makes the stars and the moon look far closer. I do have to admit, it is awfully pretty.   
“Besides, the Aurora Borealis should be starting soon,” Ego says, motioning off to mountains in the distance.   
“How do you know that?” I ask.   
“I just know.” He doesn’t elaborate further.   
Sure enough, a couple minutes later, green, blue, and yellow lights start dancing around the mountains like ocean waves of neon light.   
“Wow…” Riley and I both muse.   
We’ve seen recordings of the phenomena in videos and pictures online, but seeing them in person is a purely magical experience.   
“Are you glad I live here now?” Ego says, grinning.   
“I suppose,” I say.   
We watch in silence for a couple minutes before Ego breaks it.   
“I wasn’t entirely truthful in why I wanted to bring you two up here,” he says.   
“How so?” I ask.   
“I’ve never mentioned my family or my past much,” Ego says.   
I’m a little taken aback by the abrupt shift. “No, you haven’t,” I say, confused.   
“There’s a reason,” he says. “I’m not entirely proud of my family. I specifically came here to avoid them, you know?”   
“Shitty families seem to be a theme with us,” Riley says.   
Ego chuckles. He looks off at the horizon, sadly. “While my family isn’t the greatest, it’s a very old bloodline.”   
“Really?” I say.   
He nods. “Yes. One with certain… talents and traits. Ones I wasn’t sure if I’d passed on to you or not.”   
Riley and I both look at one another in confusion.   
“What kind of traits?” Riley asks.   
Ego bites his lip. “I’m not sure how to phrase it,” he muses.   
“Then don’t,” a voice says.   
We all jump and our eyes dart towards the treeline.   
Ego freezes, in horror. “No!” He says, horrified.   
From the shadows of the treeline, a man steps forth.   
He’s a tall guy with bulging muscles, broad body, and wide chiseled face. His platinum blonde hair is well styled in kind of a surfer dude way. He’s wearing a black tank top made of leather or something and matching pants and boots. The outfit seems to blend together like a jumpsuit or something. It has gold studs on the sleeves and belt area as accents. He has a devilish grin on his handsome face as he approaches. With the thin, sleeveless outfit, he must be frostbitten. His skin has a mild purplish hue to it.   
“Kids, back inside,” Ego says.   
“No, kids, stay!” The man says. “Please, I’m interested to finally meet my nephew and niece. Whom have been hidden thus far.” The man’s grin vanishes. “I’m rather upset about that, Ego.”   
“Leave my kids out of this, Thanos!” Ego snaps.   
“Hey, you brought them into this by bringing them out here. That amount of celestial energy from you three, it’s like a beacon right to your location!”   
“Ego, what’s he talking about?” Riley asks, a twinge of fear in her voice.   
“Nothing,” he says. “What do you want, huh?” he demands of Thanos.   
“I need you to return,” Thanos replies. “I need your help with my quest to find the Infinity Stones.”   
“What is he talking about?” I demand. “All of this sounds crazy!”   
“No, what’s crazy is your father running away from his familial duties, procreating with a human, and living as one of them for a decade!” Tahnos says, jabbing a finger violently in my direction.   
“I want nothing to do with you!” Ego snaps. “I’m not interested in giving you the power to destroy the universe just so you can nice-guy your way into Death’s pants!”   
“How DARE you speak of Lady Death like that!” Thanos says, angrily. He reaches behind him and, from nothing, a large axe materializes. “Now, let’s get on with this.”   
“NO!” Ego sheiks. “I REFUSE TO LET YOU KILL MY FAMILY!”   
“That’s not your choice to make,” Thanos says, gravely.   
“Who said anything about killing us?” I say, mortified. “WHO ARE YOU?”   
“Please!” Ego says. “I’ll go with you, help you find whatever you want, just don’t hurt them! I’ll… I’ll warp everyone’s memories so that none of this happened! Please, they don’t need to be dragged into this! PLEASE!”   
Thanos glares at Ego for a few seconds before relaxing. “Fine. Do it, then.”   
Ego turns to us. “I’m sorry…” he says, with tears in his eyes.   
He gives us a hug and then suddenly I’m at home in my bed. I have a split second of confusion before all memory of ever going to see Ego vanishes. My eyes roll back into my head and I pass out.   
As I pass out in the dream, I wake up in reality. I see the fluorescent lights, hear the beeping of the heart monitor, see the IV drip. I see Eddie, Scott and Gwen sitting in the room. They quietly chatter amongst themselves.   
All memory of Ego quickly slips away to nothing. I barely even remember what I was dreaming about in the first place.   
“Hey, gang,” I croak.   
They all gasp and rush over to me, giving me hugs. Eddie kisses me on the lips and Venom laps me with his tongue like a dog.   
They quickly explain everything that happened after I was brought here. Apparently Misty is in a psych ward now, the bunker has been seized by the police, and Magneto watson is being investigated for allowing teenagers access to highly dangerous and experimental equipment - all bought with embezzled funds from S.H.I.E.L.D.   
I listen intently and congratulate them for winning the day.   
“It was all Eddie,” Gwen says.   
Eddie blushes.   
“Oh, by the way, someone left this for you,” Gwen says. She lays out a large long box.   
We open it and I slide out an unexpected object. A katana with a blue leather handle and sheath.   
“WOAH!” We all say at the same time.   
Eddie takes it and draws it. It is shiney and sharp as hell. It looks brand new, even though the thing has to be ancient!   
There’s a note in the box. I pull it out and read it.   
It reads: “Hey, I heard your dream about me. I know you were fond of this silly thing. I fixed it up for you. Use it well. I love you, even though you probably don’t think so.” It’s not signed by anyone.   
A memory I can’t grasp tingles at the back of my mind. Something about this sword feels familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.


	21. All Falls Down [Part 1: Symbiotes & Star Lords]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter leaves Marvel Falls after breaking up with Eddie and the mysterious man in S.H.I.E.L.D has a bone to pick with Magneto Watson...

Peter’s POV:

I get out of the hospital after a week or so.   
I made a quick recovery as, thankfully, Misty didn’t leave me with any life threatening injuries. Just a lot of cuts and bruises. I mean, she did leave irreparable scars, but, nothing that anyone can see.   
My friends were thrown out of the hospital the first day I woke up because of that katana that was smuggled in - not sure how it got past the screening. It sucked in the moment, being chewed out by a bunch of doctors, though, probably for the best. Still, it was totally worth it in exchange for such an awesome weapon.   
As they left, my “family” came in. It was out of pure obligation. They stayed only a short while - just long enough to make an appearance and say they did - and it was awkward the whole time. They left twenty minutes after arriving.   
Mom doted on me a little, surprisingly. However, she pulled back after getting a wickedly nasty side eye from Step-Douche.   
He chewed me out for “being caught by a measly girl” and so on. It was humiliating and frustrating and it took me everything I had not to scream. The nurse had to come in and check on me, my heart rate was so elevated from the “conversation.”   
The night of my release was nice though. Being able to go home with Eddie and sleep in his bed once more, with his strong arms around me. Venom even pitched in to form a protective cocoon around both of us, warm and soft.   
Today is Monday of the following week; my first day back at school. It is a thoroughly miserable experience.   
I have been so emotionally wonky ever since being kidnapped. There is no amount of “be strong” that can possibly keep those feelings at bay.   
After everything I went through, being in high school again feels so juvenile and pointless. Hearing gossip in the halls and seeing the pointless schooling around me, I feel like I’m being talked down to. I went through the worst thing imaginable and I’m supposed to be invested in fucking high school?   
I become extremely closed off as the day goes on.   
I’m able to get through the morning ok, though I’m well aware I’m distant. I don’t even pay attention to what everyone was wearing. Hell, I didn't even pay attention to what I put on before coming to school. I could look like shit for all I know.   
As the day has gone on I’ve become even MORE distant.   
I don’t go to lunch as I don’t want to see anyone. I just sit in the far stall in the bathroom and listen to My Chemical Romance on my phone, the screaming lyrics of Welcome to the Black Parade thoroughly summarizing my miserable feeling.   
In class, I just sit and stare ahead of me, seeing nothing. I don't hear the teachers, nor do I care what they're saying.   
I feel like a part of me has just been sucked away.   
Every movement around me is a new nuisance and a new threat.   
Every person comes off less as an autonomous being but a gelatinous hydra, a hive mind of emotionless, careless observers. They say nothing to me, they think nothing. I'm not a victim, a hero, a savior, a conquered party, I'm nothing. Eyes glaze over me like refracting light.   
I feel like a ghost, although if I tried to touch anyone I'd just pass right through as nothing but a corporeal vapor.   
I can't stand it.   
Every flicker of light is the glint of a knife or a crowbar, or a needle, and every shadow is the corner of the bunker from which Misty will crawl, crazed and giggly, covered in my blood like the goddamned Grudge.   
Some of the teachers try saying something to me. Mr. Rogers tries to be helpful and Mrs. [Natasha Romanoff; Black Widow] is calm and sweet with her words, but it's all in vain.   
I'd rather just melt into the floor and never be seen by anyone, just have my eyes roll back into my head and have my soul leave my body. I just want to be everywhere and nowhere at once.   
My skin screams like a raging fire and every step through the halls is like pins and needles and every look outside to the dreary outdoors sucks a little bit more of my life away with every glance.   
I start to avoid my friends in the halls and in our classes together. I don’t want to see them and I don’t want them to see me, Eddie especially. I can't take the sight of his sweet face. I don't want him to worry - I don't want him to think about me at all. I don't want to be thought of by anyone at all. I just want to bleep out of existence into another dimension and be forgotten here completely.   
As I walk through the halls after school is over and the others slam into me like linebackers as they scramble about their pointless lives, I abruptly make a decision. It’s a stupid one, but, at this point, I don’t care about the consequences. I’d be long gone by that point.   
The longer I spend here in this town, the more I want to escape. So, I will.   
…

I take the bus, despite Eddie saying he’d drive. I don’t want him to know what I’m doing.   
When I get off, it’s not at Eddie’s house, but my own.   
My mind is clear and I am completely void of emotion as I walk into the house - my determination has left me nothing more than a Terminator.   
As I enter, I grab my new katana from the umbrella stand by the door, where I left it. I draw it and continue on through the house.   
It's Step-Douche's day off - just as I'd hoped it would be.   
He and Mom sit in the living room, stiffly, watching TV. Two useless pieces of white trash.   
They manage to look over their shoulders as I enter but don’t have a chance to do anything before I strike.   
I slash at Step-Douche’s head. The blade connects with his neck instead, severing through skin, muscle, and arteries. It clips the spine and goes right through to the other side. His head doesn't come clean off, still attached by a minute amount of sinew. It flops over, making him look like Nearly Headless Nick from the Harry Potter movies.   
Mom manages to get out a scream before I swing at her as well. I learned my lesson with the first swipe. I swing even harder at her and, this time, cut her head completely off.   
It falls down her chest, neck stump spurting blood, bounces off her thighs, and lands on the floor. It looks up at me with wide eyes, its mouth frozen in an O shape.   
I give it a swift kick across the room as I don’t want it to look at me. It goes right through a glass cabinet, the skull caving in, though I don’t pay too much attention as I pass through the livingroom to the kitchen.

LUCAS AN: JESUS CHRIST WILLOW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! ZERO TO ELEVEN MUCH?! HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO ROOT FOR HIM NOW - HE’S A FUCKING MURDERER! OH MY FUCKING CHRIST!!!!!!!!!!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMARKxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Wjkat you talkingv bout bhro yaht was fukng aswesom ewillow omg XD!!!!11!!!!!

I grab the keys to the family shit-mobile from their peg on the wall and pocket them.   
I scribble a quick message on a sticky note, “Riley, Beth Lynn, don’t go inside. call 911 immediately.” I slap that to the front door on my way out.   
I drive over to Eddie’s house.   
Nobody’s home yet. Good.   
I immediately go upstairs and start throwing anything and everything into boxes and drag them down and roughly throw them into the back of the van.   
It's not everything - just clothes and basic needs. I don't want half of it. I don't need half of it. I just want the bare essentials and nothing else. I want as few ties to my "life" as possible.   
Just as I finish up and am about to jump in the van and take off, I hear the crunching of gravel as Eddie pulls up in the driveway.   
He leaps out and runs over. “Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” He demands. “You weren’t at school… why are you in your Mom’s van?”   
“I’m leaving, Eddie,” I snap. “I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.”   
As I look into his puppy dog eyes, Eddie is mortified. “You don’t have that spark in your eye anymore. You always light up when you see me.”   
“Yeah, well, Misty snuffed all that shit out, ok? I’m just cold and tired and depressed and thoroughly over it. I’m done with this town and everyone in it.” I gulp. “You included.”   
Eddie stands in utter shock, staring at me. “What… what do you mean?” he murmurs.   
“Eddie, I want you to move on. You’re a good guy. I’m not. Misty was right. She tapped into something when she pretended to be me. She saw something that even I didn’t - something I now see. I just did something unforgivable.”   
“What did you do?” Eddie demands.   
“Not telling. Point is, you deserve someone better than me.”   
“Peter!” He yells, grabbing me by the shoulders. “I need you! I DESPERATELY NEED YOU!”   
“No, you don’t,” I say, firmly, stepping away from him.   
“Don’t leave me alone, please!” Eddie says, full on sobbing now.   
“Eddie, you’re not alone. You have Venom. Gwen. Scott. Ava. You don't need me. I am nothing but a burden, something that makes your already complicated life even worse. I want to leave and let you truly live. Find someone new. Find someone better. Don't pretend I'm your end all be all.” I smile, sadly. “Please.”   
“No, YOU please!” Eddie says, desperately. “Stay here; stay here and finish high school at least!”   
“Not possible,” I say. “Look, I can’t stay in this town, Eddie. Not after what I've gone through. This is not a place I can call home. I never did. I never will.”   
“Where are you going then?” Eddie demands.   
I shrug. “I don't know, somewhere.”   
“Just somewhere?” He says, scoffing. “You just going to drive around until you run out of gas or something?”   
“Or something.”   
“YOU ARE INSANE!” Eddie shrieks, sobbing even harder. “You’re just leaving, no fucking plan at all?”   
“Nope, no plan whatsoever,” I say.   
“You can’t go!” Eddie says again, quaking with the sobs wracking his body. “I can’t live without you!”   
“You have to,” I say. “Cherish all the things you have, Eddie. I’m not one of those things.”   
Eddie continues to try and argue with me, but I get frustrated.   
I grip him by the shoulders and push his back before getting into the van.   
I have to maneuver carefully around his truck - blocking the driveway - but I manage.   
Gasping sons exit Eddie’s throat as he just stands there, swaying like a lifeless marionette.   
I hit the gas and take off down the road. I look behind me as Eddie vanishes into the dust and mist.   
The scariest thing? I feel nothing as he vanishes into the far-behind-me.

WILLOW AN: OOOH! I was so excited to write such a dramatic scene! The drama, the intregue! It gives me chills! I hope it does you too! ; )

…

??? POV:

The Man sits in his office in the underground laboratory inside the bowels of the S.H.I.E.L.D corporation, utterly livid.   
Everything has gone to hell in a handbasket in record time. EVERYTHING that could go wrong went wrong. Containment breeches, escaped experiments, outsiders trespassing, and police involvement. And all for what? For an experiment that ultimately didn’t even pan out, in the slightest.   
They were trying to isolate elements of the Symbiotes’ DNA for it’s regenerative properties - properties that could be applied to humans. The Man is highly invested in this for reasons unknown to anyone but him.   
Exploring space to find these creatures burrowed in a traveling asteroid, retrieving it, containing the creatures, several million dollars in experimentation, and nothing to show for it.   
Of course, the money and wasted time are the least of The Man’s concerns. He has all the time in the world and unlimited funds to blow on whatever kinds of experiments he wants.   
He worries a stress ball, utterly demolishing the foam toy with his powerful hands, the anger and frustration seeping through him.   
His eyes dart to his office door when it opens. Dr. Dora Skirth walks in.   
“Ms. Skirth,” The Man says, cooly. “Is it done?”   
She nods. “The creatures have all been destroyed. Tissue samples from each have been cryogenically preserved. All data has been thoroughly backed up and is now highly classified and on a need-to-know basis.” She gulps. “And all of the test subjects have… have been eliminated.” She looks down at her feet.   
“Oh, please, you’re not honestly mourning the loss of some worthless homeless people, are you?” The Man demands.   
“It was unnecessary!” She blurts out. “Why did they have to die when they didn’t have to?”   
“Security risk, you know that!” The Man says, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk, hands knitted across his chest. “If they blabbed to anyone after being released, about anything that happened here, it could compromise everything!”   
Dora Skirth doesn’t look convinced.   
“Look, if you’re that upset, take this,” The Man says, tossing her his stress ball. “Trust me, it does wonders!”   
Dora bites her lip and nods. “Of course, sir.”   
“By the way,” The Man says, “has Magneto Watson arrived yet?”   
“I think so, yeah. He’s on his way now.”   
“Good, good. Please, go, he and I will have a lot to discuss when he arrives.”   
Dora nods and excuses herself.   
Almost immediately after she leaves, Magneto Watson enters the room.   
“Mr. Watson,” The Man says, his voice calm and collected.   
This clearly worries Magneto as he was clearly expecting yelling and swearing.   
“I assume you know why you’re here?” The Man says.   
“I’m a genius sir, I could take a gander,” Magneto says.   
“Good. then you know I’m rather… testy with you at the moment.”   
Magneto nods.   
The Man gets up from his desk and starts to pace the room, slowly, as he continues to speak. “You’ve made my life quite a living hell for the past week. Nothing but paperwork and a constant back and forth with law enforcement. I did my best to protect you, legally, from the consequences. After everything you’ve done for me, I think that’s justified. However, I am half of mind to fire you here and now. What you did was FUCKING RESTLESS!”   
Magneto jumps at his boss’ sudden tone shift.   
The Man raps his fingers on the desktop before suddenly dragging his fingernails back. They’re steel hard and leave absurdly deep slashes in the fine wood.   
Magneto bites his lip and shivers. He is well aware that is the least of his boss’ abilities to cause pain to those he is “testy” with.   
“You gave your CHILDREN access to highly experimental and dangerous materials; those suits and those weapons!” The Man continues. “And authorized the construction of that little clubhouse of theirs. That is not YOUR money to spend, my friend.”   
“I… I just wanted to do something for my kids,” Magneto stammers. “They rarely see me since I’m so busy, I felt like I owed it to them!”   
The Man sighs. “I”ll admit, I do admire your dedication to your family. You and I share a common bond in that regard. But, you know that.”   
“How could I not?” Magneto says with a nervous chuckle.   
“Then you also know, more than most, that any distraction from my work is a detriment, right?”   
“Of course, sir.”   
“Good. The next fuck up you’re out,” The Man says, bluntly.   
“I understand.”   
“Good. Go, please, get back to work. I have a headache-inducing amount of work to get through here.”   
Magneto practically runs from the room.   
The Man sighs deeply.   
“No more distractions,” he thinks to himself. “No more sidetracks.”   
He WILL prevail with his research, somehow, some way. Nothing will possibly be able to stop him. Not Magneto, not the police, not the vigilante superheroes who stopped the escaped Symbiote.   
Nothing.

End Of Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Lucas here. There are several things I need to mention real quick. 
> 
> Obviously, this is the end of part one of Marvel Falls. Part two will DEFINITELY be coming out - but it may be a while. 
> 
> Willow wrote up this whole ENORMOUS subplot for Peter post-breakup, all by her lonesome (thank God, her stuff is way easier to edit than Mark's). It was so long, in fact, it needs it's own separate companion fic. So, that's going to be created / updated within the next couple of days, hopefully. 
> 
> It's called "Risqué" and will be... an experience. I'm in the process of editing the first couple of chapters and it is a WILD one, let me tell you. If you need your fix of Marvel Falls (you need a new addiction if that's the case) feel free to check it out once it's posted. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, whatever, I hope you all are doing well and surviving the plague! Thank God 2020 is almost over! <3


End file.
